Aliens: Hell is Underground I & II
by Hoobajoo
Summary: ABANDONED A maintenance worker is killed in an underground maze of tunnels and pipes. Marcus is sent in to find and kill the alien responsible. However, there's more than aliens creeping around down there and all is not as it seems....
1. Introduction

**Author's note: This is the first Hell is Underground story I have written and the sequel I am currently writing (and presented in the summary) is at Chapter 15. They are based on the same main characters and world, so I would advise reading the preceeding story below to get the full picture and best experience. The summary for this story is as follows:**

Personnel are mysteriously disappearing from a geology research station on LV-493. Two junior agents from an elite anti-xenomorph security firm are hired to investigate. Aliens are involved, but they're like nothing anyone has ever seen before. Rated M for violence, language and sex. NOT FOR CHILDREN.

I have not received much in the way of feedback for this initial story and reviews are much, much appreciated. Pleased drop me a line and let me know what you think.

Many thanks,

Hoobajoo

**Aliens: Hell Is Underground I**

**Chapter 1: Introduction**

My name is Marcus Stanford.

I work for Proctor Osman Corp, known as "PROS" for short. It is a company that specializes in Xenomorph handling and security. Rescue missions, infestation eradication, seek and destroy missions, site rehabilitations, specimen capture and reconnaissance. Whenever there's a place that has a Xenomorph problem, PROS has a squad or squads that can handle it, or at least assist.

The company is a very elite and expensive outfit, with contracts mainly coming from big business exploration companies and mining conglomerates and government.

I work at PROS as a member of Blue squad. I joined 8 months ago.

My background is quite extensive in the military and police force. I started out as a police officer in Alarium, a large residential and farming district back on Mars. My arrest rates were high and I generally excelled at all the standard tests, both intellectual and practical. Fitness tests, fake hostage rescues and dispute resolutions, hand-to-hand combat and fire arms; I was easily above the average in all areas and was recommended by my senior officer to the Military where I applied for the Special Ops division back on Earth.

I was successful and passed the rigorous testing and training regimes after lots of hard work, earning me graduation honours. I saw action as part of the Russian Fracture conflict of 2254. Russia erupted into civil war as numerous states and ethnic minorities within Russia lobbied for independence and succeeded after a bloody campaign with the Russian central government. I was involved in a hostage situation, several assassinations, search and rescue missions and providing escorts for supply runs and officials which often came under fire. I had a personal kill tally of over 90 Russian rebels and was given several military badges and medals for my efforts. The highlight of which was getting a President's Cross (one of the highest awards you can get) after successfully infiltrating a rebel group as an under-cover operative to rescue a captured senior US diplomat.

However, towards the end of the conflict, I was shot and nearly killed by a sniper during a supply run escort. My leg was blown off above the knee, halfway up my thigh. I spent a month in the hospital as the doctors reattached my leg and spent another six months in rehabilitation learning how to walk again and strengthening my leg. I was left with quite a nasty looking scar right around my thigh, which medical insurance then enabled me to get skin grafted and smoothed, and is barely visible now.

The whole experience was very traumatic for me. Whilst I wanted to continue in my line of work, I was wary of being in active conflict again.

I became friends with a bouncer at a club one night and he introduced me to an agent for a security company. I then worked the next 3 years as a body guard for various rich and famous people, culminating in my preventing an assassination attempt on a popstar, a blonde haired beauty by the name of Angel Spencer. She was the hottest popstar of the decade.

A mafia gang attempted to kidnap her during one of her nights out with her girlfriends, when I was the acting bodyguard. I knew something was wrong when the lights in the club suddenly died. I ran to find Angel and she wasn't where she was supposed to be. I stormed out the back and saw her being bundled into a van. I jumped onto the back of the van as it sped away and managed to kill the driver and stop the vehicle. I also managed to kill all of the remaining assailants and rescue her, ironically, just as the photographer's came.

It was one of the most famous images of the time, a picture of me, half covered in blood, my clothes torn, cradling the near-naked and traumatised Angel in my arms.

Ironically, after that incident, Angel's representatives cancelled my contract and bound me with a gag order, not to talk about the incident or talk to the media about her. I didn't mind, since they paid me handsomely to buy my silence.

However, I had a difficult time after that incident trying to find new work. Although the gag order was in place, my name was leaked to the media and I became a celebrity of sorts as well. Angel's fans were especially grateful to me….. I never had any trouble seducing them. Angel herself was grateful and we dated for a short time. It was a whirlwind of sex, money, fine wine, fast cars, high society and infamy. I quit being a bodyguard at 32 to become a full-time man of leisure. I was a very rich man, after all.

Life was great, but I missed doing what I was best at. I woke up one morning feeling like shit after a big night. I looked back at the three sleeping naked women in my bed, but then looked down at myself and saw the onset of a pot belly.

I was angry at myself. I am a soldier, not a playboy.

I ditched my decadent lifestyle and threw myself hard into the gym. After a 4 month binge of weights, running and a strict diet, I was back in the best shape of my life. I was rippling with muscle, fit and fast again. I went to a shooting range and was glad to see my steady hand had not lost its edge at all.

An old friend of mine from back from the Russian Fracture days gave me a call and told me of his plans to apply for PROS. He wanted to join the elite organization and asked me to apply too.

We both applied, passed the aptitude test and were sent off somewhere for a hologram test exercise. I remember getting suited up, being given a pulse rifle and being sent out into a hologram simulation of a xenomorph infestation. The objective was to "rescue a scientist" on the other side of a maze whilst either avoiding or eliminating a swarm of holographic xenomorphs.

I remember the sheer fear and exhilaration I felt when I saw the first of the xenomorphs swarm over the maze's walls and tackle other applicants down, eliminating them from the simulation. My friend was lost in the mad scramble, as many applicants tried to stay and shoot them down. I knew better and darted down a maze corridor, I had memorised the way when they showed us a map before. I stopped at a T-junction as xenomorphs approached me from both sides. A woman bumped into me from behind as I drew up my gun. Barely looking at her, I simply barked at her to cover the left as I shot down the ones approaching from my right.

In only a few seconds we had torn them down and quickly proceeded further down through the maze. She was only a small woman, black hair and really lithe. Without even thinking about it, we were acting like a well co-ordinated team. She did a great job of covering me as I acted as point man, leading the way. Her aim with her rifle was inhuman.

Not long after, we successfully reached the end of the course, being marshalled into a safe area. Caught in the heat of the moment, elation and adrenaline coursing through my veins, I grabbed her and gave her a bear hug, screaming at the victory. I remember seeing her smiling, laughing wildly, returning the hug and cheering. We felt like we had just cheated death together.

Panting and sweating, the adrenaline surging as I started to calm down somewhat, I collapsed down onto a leather chair in the, as yet, empty debriefing room. The woman did the same, falling down next to me, giggling and sweating profusely.

She spoke first, "Nice work, friend. Looks like we both made it."

"Yeah, that was one hell of a test. I've never done anything like it. I was scared shitless out there!" I wasn't lying. I doubted I would be able to sleep for a while after that ordeal.

"Yeah, me too. I didn't realise how fast those things could move or how hard it was to get a bead on them."

"Bullshit! You were an amazing shot out there. You did a great job covering my ass!" I grinned at her.

Her eyes flashed at me as she undid her tight bun of black hair, sending it bouncing down to her shoulders and cascading across her face and blue eyes. "You did a great job leading the way! We're a fucking good team aren't we? We did great! Woo hoo!" She held up her hand for a high five.

I slapped her open hand with gusto and gripped it tightly. "Yeah, we are a good team." Our eyes locked for a moment and I seemed to forget where I was or what I was doing.

She seemed locked with me, but stammered through the awkward silence, "Um… I'm Mary. Mary Blazich."

I adjusted my grip on her hand to shake it like a proper hand shake, "Marcus Stanford."

"Pleased to meet you." Our eyes were still locked, I couldn't stop staring at her slate blue eyes. I felt like I was a goofy teenager meeting a girl for the first time.

"Yeah….." I smiled at her and she smiled back. I had to catch myself otherwise I swear I would have leaned in and tried to kiss her right there and then. Thankfully, a man in a suit broke my trance when he walked into the room. We both sat bolt upright and stared straight ahead.

He eyed us both, sensing what was going on, but proceeded anyway, "Well, Marcus Stanford. Mary Blazich. You were the only applicants to successfully complete the course. Congratulations. You are both graduate agents of Proctor Osman."

"Thank you, sir" we both said together in time, continuing to stare straight ahead.

The man in the suit crossed his arms as he slackened his posture, "I must say, I have never seen anyone team up and perform as well as you both did. You don't know each other do you?"

"No, sir." We both replied.

"Hmmm, well, the test is over, you can both relax now. Feel free to meet up with the other applicants through here and head back to the lockers to clean up. You'll be given further instructions from there. Dismissed." The man simply turned and walked out the door before we had a chance to reply.

Grinning at each other, we didn't say anything more as we filed out of the room and off to the lockers. It was disappointing to meet up with my friend and see the genuine sadness on his face. He had desperately wanted to get in, but he was obviously happy for me.

Fast forward 8 months and it has been a great time for me, exciting, in the company of many other men and women like me. Many of the people at PROS are ex-army, police or special ops of some sort. It was a vindication to have stepped up from baby sitting annoying celebrities to being at the top of the tree with these people. As I said previously, PROS is an elite organization, only the best get through due to the extremely hazardous nature of our line of work. I felt right at home.

The training I have endured so far has been extremely interesting and tough. Learning about xenomorphs, their tactics, physiology and life cycles. The way we handle xenomorphs is a far cry from the first encounters, usually at the hand of the Colonial Marines. My official training finished only a few weeks ago and Mary and I became active junior agents, ready for live missions.

Whilst I am a member of Blue Squad with 7 other members, it was common knowledge that Mary and myself were a damn fine duo. Every time we worked a xenomorph combat hologram exercise, we would pair up and perform the best compared to everyone else.

As in the application exercise, it always worked that I would act as point man, working up in front, deciding where to go and what to do and take the brunt of an attack in close quarters combat. She would hover behind me and provide infallible sniper cover. I remember one exercise where I had to hot-wire a door and she had to hold off a swarm of charging aliens behind me. I trusted her so completely, that I didn't even know until she told me after that an alien crept right up next to me as I worked in the door before she blasted it.

The other agents got wind of my celebrity status of having saved Angel and knew that she was my girlfriend once. I, therefore, had a reputation for being a playboy and womaniser, even though I hadn't had sex with anyone since that 'pot-belly morning' over a year ago. Rumours persisted that Mary and I were an item. Although Mary wasn't going to win any beauty pageants, they way she acted, her demeanour and good humour, meant she was an attractive woman, at least in my eyes. God I wanted to get her in bed with me!

However, we were strictly professional on the job. Don't get me wrong, we are great friends. Friday nights at the bar would be us together all night talking and telling stories. We are best friends. Even though I wished for something more, I couldn't bring myself to make a move. I dunno. Something just held me back all the time.

This morning, Clive, our squad leader gave me a call to meet upstairs tomorrow for a client meeting. Apparently there was a chance that a client wanted a couple of agents for a bodyguard role. If that were the case, I would be pairing up with Mary for our first real mission.

I almost dribbled at the prospect.


	2. Client Meeting

**Chapter 2: Client Meeting**

I had just worked through my usual morning gym routine when my alarm went off in the empty men's locker room. It was time for me to get ready for a client meeting this morning. I needed to get to the Wilcox room upstairs in the executive wing.

I closed my locker, spun the combination lock and headed for the door out into the hallway. Walking down a cream concrete corridor, I saw a Blue Squad team mate, Alexis walking down towards me.

He nodded at my direction and spoke as I returned his nod. "Marcus, you heading off for something, are you?" he said cheerily.

"Looks like it." I replied as we walked past each other. I turned and looked over my shoulder towards him as I continued walking, "Hopefully I'm getting my cherry popped."

Alexis laughed, always one for a good humour, "About time you useless virgin. Tell me all the dirty details when you get back, huh?"

Chuckling, I found the stair well and jogged up excitedly to the executive foyer.

I stepped out into the reception area, an attractive middle aged receptionist, Cheryl, waved at me. "Hey Marcus, Wilcox room, just down to the right."

I knew where the room was, but thanked her anyway as she turned back to her desk. I always felt so important when I was up on the executive floor. This was where client meetings and external training sessions were held. The corridors were lined with panelling resembling pine wood, the lights over head a soft glow and soft maroon carpet, broken up a blue looping design. Everything was designed to give a very polished and professional corporate impression, especially the expensive classical era artwork. It worked on me at least.

I turned a corner and saw the glass panelling of the meeting rooms. Further down, I saw an open door on the right and slowed down as I reached the doorway, 'Wilcox Room' stated on a clean steel plaque next to the open frosted glass door. Inside, I saw a large wooden board room table lined with expensive looking leather chairs, very comfortable, four people seated, two on each side of the table chatting to each other between the glasses of water and mints served in the middle of the table.

I straightened my posture and ran my hand down the front of my deep blue suit and chequered pale blue tie. The smooth silk of my tie helped to quell my nervousness. I needed to remember that I looked the part of a polished corporate soldier.

One of the men, Clint Brody, the head PROS client manager turned to me as I entered and raised an open hand towards me to welcome me into the room.

"Ah, Marcus. Good to see you. Mary should be right behind you." He said warmly. He was a retired security and bodyguard broker who had previously procured bodyguards for high-profile individuals. He was an office worker, 15 or so kgs overweight and dressed in a lightly pinstriped dark suit, white shirt with pearl cufflinks and salmon pink tie. Although he had never seen any sort of combat before, he was generally respected by the PROS agents due to his unwillingness to sacrifice agents for the sake of extra revenue. He smiled, showing all of his straightened and white teeth, his black hair smoothed back, his glasses catching a glare from the lights above in the ceiling, giving his eyes a used car-salesmen type glint as he smiled.

He turned and gestured to the two unfamiliar people across the table as he spoke, "These are representatives from Develin Exploration, Gerry Mcaulin and Caroline Swinton." Each of them nodded and smiled politely at me upon the introduction. They wore similarly opulent clothes to Clint, high ranking office worker's suits, Gerry 30kgs overweight, but Caroline looked athletic and lean, her hair tied in a pony tail, making her appear more so.

Clint turned further and gestured to a man next to him that I recognized. "And you know Brendon." Brendon worked with Clint as an assistant client manager, a lean athletic man, 10 years younger than Clint at about 29. He smiled warmly at me, much as Clint did.

"Yes sir." I said nodding at him as I started towards an empty seat beside Brendon. I made sure to unbutton my suit and hitch my pants as I sat down, my vision focused on the empty note pad before me on the table.

Just as I turned the chair to sit down, Mary walked through the door and went through the same conversation and introduction I just did with Clint.

Mary bowed slightly and smiled at the clients across the table and looked at me warmly, genuine compared to Clint and Brendon, as she moved towards me and sat down in the chair next to mine. She was dressed in a figure hugging business skirt, white open necked shirt and black suit jacket. Her hair was tied back in a pony tail, her hair curling and bouncing down her neck and gracing her shoulders. She was looking good. Very elegant.

I smiled back at her, locking a gaze with her as she sat down and shifted slightly in her chair.

The initial introductions over with, Clint started the meeting. "So, as discussed last night, you raised that you wanted to discuss something with us with a view to seconding two of our junior operatives for a security role."

Gerry leaned forward slightly in his chair and elaborated, "Yes that's right. The background to this request is that Develin has recently explored and established a research facility on LV-943. The research is in partnership with Morris Datalabs after we found some rare types of rock formations. We established an atmosphere processor and built a research complex approximately 7 months ago. The nature of the rock formations is severely confidential and market sensitive information."

Clint seized the comment to show some authority, leaning in my and Mary's direction, "We are aware of the sensitive nature of this situation, Gerry. Marcus and Mary are both aware of their obligations to keep whatever they hear in this room confidential."

Gerry appeared to be slightly comforted as he darted a look our way, but quickly centred back on Clint. Brendon simply sat there trying to look important. "Yes, well, the reason we have contacted you is that there have been two separate incidents where research personnel have disappeared and there is no satisfactory explanation as to why."

I was confused and butted in, "Excuse me, but I don't quite understand. Do these disappearances have some link to a xenomorph presence of some sort?"

Clint frowned and cleared his throat slightly to berate me, but Gerry continued before he could, "Well, there's a possibility that there may be. One researcher disappeared, however several of his personal artefacts were recovered. One of which was a broken video camera mounted on his radio mic." Gerry nodded towards his assistant, Caroline, and she pressed a button on a small speaker sitting on the table. The speaker sprung to life and a man's voice could be heard, talking about nothing particularly interesting. Gerry continued to speak over the top of the playing dialogue, "His name was Morris Liverman. He was travelling alone, unauthorized I should add, to an uncharted section of terrain. In a few seconds, you'll hear something I want your opinion on."

Everyone looked intently at the speaker, listening carefully as the man's voice abruptly stopped, silent, presumably listening for something. Suddenly, the man was shouting, "Oh God! Oh Shit!" a scream filled the air before a shrill cry of something inhuman pierced through the noise and the tape stopped.

Gerry leaned back in his chair and stared at me. "What do you make of that?"

I looked at Mary and her eyes told me she was thinking the same thing. "The tape is very heavily garbled and difficult to ascertain, but I would think it's highly likely that was a xenomorph drone's scream."

Gerry leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table and cupping his hands together in front of his face as he looked at me intently. "Are you certain?"

"I'm not 100 percent certain, but I am very confident. We both are." As I nodded to Mary.

Gerry retracted his hands and spoke directly to Clint. "Right. On that basis, I have been authorized to hire two operatives to serve as protective personnel until more information comes to hand."

Clint spoke up, "In the name of prudence, I would recommend that a greater presence be on foot, given it is unknown how many xenomorphs could be involved." Clint was eager to try and contract out more agents to up the fee.

Gerry shot down the notion. "We already have a presence in the form of a detachment of Colonial Marines. They are the ones who recovered the tape you just listened to. We would want two operatives, I presumes yourselves, to accompany the marine detachment, providing additional security and guidance. Should the situation warrant further personnel, we will be open to hiring further PROS staff."

Clint tried to assert some authority , "Well, Mary and Marcus would be the best choice for a two man presence. Whilst they operate as part of Blue Squad, they have shown a great propensity and ability as a two man team. They would be ideal for the job." He smiled that warm 'trust me' smile.

Gerry and, especially Caroline, seemed as though they were trying to read between the lines, perhaps thinking that Mary and I were a couple. "Oh? How is that? What are your backgrounds and abilities then?"

I looked to Mary and she began to speak, "Marcus and I are a team because he is an excellent point man and I am a sniper. Marcus typically runs face first into the threat whilst I provide covering fire. It's how we both passed the test exercise to join this organisation in the first place."

I watched Caroline as I saw a flash of something across her face. I cursed when I realised what it was.

"Hey, I recognise you! Marcus Stanford. You were Angel's bodyguard, right?"

All eyes turned to me, Mary smirked. "Yes, that's correct." I kept my reply short and curt.

Gerry's eyes also lit up as Caroline started gushing, "Oh wow! I am such a fan of her. I remember seeing that photo of you carrying her away. That was so romantic….." She flushed bright red when she realised what she was saying.

Gerry started chuckling, "Caroline, I can't believe it…. ha ha." Caroline tried to cover her face. Gerry leaned forward across the table towards me. "She'll probably want your number."

Caroline playfully slapped him on his arm and seemed to flush an even darker shade of red. Clint and Brendon laughed, fitting in with Gerry's playful teasing.

Mary just smirked at me as she met Gerry's vision and stated coldly, "Mr Mcaulin, I have worked with many people, many top soldiers in my time as a sniper. I can assure you Marcus is not here to give this place some celebrity status. Marcus is the best soldier I have ever worked with."

Gerry's chuckling stopped abruptly and his face cracked back into a serious stare. "I'm glad to hear that, Mary. I would hate to think a team such as yourselves would be anything short of absolute……. professionalism."

The air in the room suddenly seemed to turn to ice as he stared back and forth between Mary and I. Brendon broke the tension as best he could, "I can assure you, sir, that soldiers of the calibre of both Marcus and Mary are the most disciplined you will ever find. Any lack of focus in the field can result in death."

"That's right." I said, reinforcing Brendon's comment straight away, not missing a beat as I returned his stare. Dumb bastard's pissed off his secretary is attracted to me. "No room for error or complacency when our lives, reputation and our client's welfare is on the line."

Clint used the opportunity to butt in and divert the conversation. "That's right Marcus. Now, to get back to the matter at hand, we can despatch Marcus and Mary today if required. They do not have any other commitments that would preclude them from giving all of their time and ability to Develin Exploration."

Gerry kept glaring at me, smirking, "Glad to hear that."

Clint wanted to get an idea of how much this job would be worth, "Do you have a preference as to how long you would like these agents to accompany this operation?"

Gerry simply stared right back at Clint and stated, "For as long as is required to ascertain whether a threat exists, and if possible, neutralize the threat." He looked over to Mary and I. "Does that sound…. appropriate to you?"

"Yes, sir." We both replied, quick as a whip.

Gerry seemed to relax substantially in his chair. "Alright then. I'll get on the phone to the research station and let them know you are coming." He slid a leather bound compendium across the table to me. "This is a briefing of the facility. Layout, personnel all of that sort of thing." He inhaled slowly as I laid my hand on it, "Well, gentlemen. I trust that's all we needed to discuss. I need to dash off to a conference on Mars. I'll be contactable during that time. Caroline will be with me." He stared at me as he spoke.

After a series of handshakes, Gerry and Caroline left the room, escorted by Brendon. Clint turned to me as we listened to their footsteps disappear down the hallway, "I'm not going to lecture you two or anything. Yes, his is a prick and I don't like him either. But this is what can be required to get work. Good work for keeping your cool."

"Thank you, sir." We both replied quickly.

He relaxed as he gathered his things and got ready to leave. He extended his hand and gave us both a handshake. "Good luck." He turned and disappeared out the door leaving Mary and I alone.

Mary was pissed, "What a faggot! That Gerry guy had no right to talk to us like that."

"It's alright. He's just pissed his secretary was gushing over me." I looked Mary in the eye, smirking. "You aren't jealous are you?"

Mary turned away from me and grabbed a mint from the table, "Fuck off." before she playfully punched me in the shoulder and started towards the door.

So that was it. We were off for our first mission.


	3. Are We There Yet?

**Chapter 3: Are we there yet?**

It was confirmed that Mary and Marcus would head out to LV-943 and liaise with Gordon Lammet, the head of security and senior officer of the marine detachment there. A small spaceship would ferry Mary and Marcus out to the planetoid, total flying time taking approximately one week in cryostasis.

Marcus and Mary both proceeded to the PROS armoury where they were issued with their personalised equipment for the mission.

Marcus's primary weapon was a PROS standard pulse rifle, a modified version of an M41A pulse rifle with a large magazine capacity of 200 rounds of PROS Anti-Xenomorph Ammunition ('AXA rounds' for short).

Mary's primary weapon was a customized automatic sniper rifle, relatively standard issue for the military. The only modifications were to the butt and stock to better fit her small and slender size and to add a grenade launcher and larger magazine capacity of 100 AXA rounds.

Both equipped a machine pistol as a secondary weapon with a thirty round capacity of AXA rounds.

The AXA rounds used in all PROS bullet munitions based weaponry, including smart guns, are ultra-compact treated bullets with an armour piercing head encasing a chemically treated inner core. The idea behind the bullet was that the hard casing would puncture and flatten against a xenomorph's outer carapace, letting the inner core pass through the puncture, which then disperse and tears apart the soft flesh of the target. This core includes a chemical compound that reacts with a xenomorph's acidic blood, causing it to either thicken substantially or solidify. This meant that a single bullet would enter a xenomorph, puncturing a hole the size of a small coin, but the inner core expands and shreds an area the size of a large orange, imbedding inside and minimising acid splash.

Another speciality of PROS was that of their anti-xenomorph armour. The armour is a skin tight suit, from neck to feet featuring an acid retardant series of rubber-like poly-fibre layers, which slow the burn of xenomorph blood dramatically. The armour is stitched together in sections which can be easily ripped off. The idea was that if you received acid splash damage to a localised area, the wearer could peel the affected area's layer off before the acid burned through to the skin.

A full-face helmet and mask also provides facial protection as well as a HUD, integrating the motion tracker, infra-red and smart gun aiming system into a hands-free display that hovered at the base of the wearer's field of vision.

PROS are often described as 'ghosts' due to their intimidating and unnerving appearance when wearing their suits. The mask in particular looked like a strange cyber-skull of sorts, with the breathing filter over the wearer's mouth resembling metallic teeth and the goggles on the mask made of plexiglass that shone a gold hue from the outside. Based on this perception, the suit was called a ghost suit.

Marcus packed a dark blue ghost suit, whilst Mary packed a dark green suit.

Each of them also carried portable welders, flashlights, electronic lockpicks, one packet of C9 plastic explosive with remote detonators, and a small high yield napalm bomb (ideal for hive clean-outs) all packed neatly into a slim-line backpack.

All of their equipment, including over 4,000 AXA rounds was loaded into storage lockers on their small space craft as they began to climb into their cryo-stasis pods. The room they were sitting in was quite small, designed to house 6 stasis pods, sitting in the middle of the room, flanked behind by lockers and benches. A soft white glow blanketed the cold and cramped room, steel alloy rafters and girders lining the ceiling and walls. A computer terminal at the foot of the tubes provided some further illumination, the PROS logo shining proudly on the screen, a clenched fist backed by criss-crossed swords and a leafed wreath.

A small trapezoidal shaped door next to the terminal was the only exit for the room. The steel grating floor snaking out into a short corridor towards the front of the ship.

Marcus was wearing a pair of small khaki shorts and a khaki singlet and Mary was wearing a similar outfit. He sat on the side of his pod as he connected the bio-monitors to his skin. He was excited, nervous like a little kid as he swivelled around to Mary, "Hey Mary, you got goose bumps?"

She replied as she placed her right foot into her pod, "Yeah, I do. After all this time, we're finally going on a mission."

"Well, hey, mind you, for all we know nothing might happen."

She looked him in the eyes, her eyelashes fluttering slightly, "I doubt that."

Every time she did that it made Marcus' heartbeat skip. It was times like these, her lithe body easy to make out in her skimpy undergarments that Marcus sometimes had to be a little careful to not show an erection. Her left leg, smooth and slightly tanned stretched out, her toes just touching the cold steel floor. "Yeah, I know. Well, at least we have the Colonial Admin's finest to back us up and save our asses if anything… untoward happens."

Mary scoffed at the sarcastic joke. "Well, I feel very safe with you by my side. If anything ever happens to me, I know you'll parade in on a fat white horse and save me." She mocked fainting and smiled.

That was the thing that really made Marcus like being around her. She was a good sport and, because they were good friends and trusted each other, jokes with slight or sarcastic sexual undertones were not uncomfortable between them, even though he was very attracted to her. "Yep, big fat horse to carry you out. You ain't so little biyatch." He clicked his fingers playfully in front of her.

She mocked hurtfulness and served one back at him. "And you ain't no gangster. Cut yo hair, hippie."

"Iron my shirt, bitch." He smiled playfully.

"Go buy my tampons, pussy."

Marcus laughed out loud, and Mary joined in. The chuckling died down as Timber Wilkins, the resident technician, strolled into the cryo centre. "Alright what's going on here?" He was a nerdy looking man. Tall and lanky thin, curly hair and hooked nose. He wasn't pretty and was an absolute nerd, but extremely knowledgeable in his field as a technician, both in the armoury and space craft. For his proficiency, he was well respected, even though he had a minimal sense of humour.

Both Mary and Marcus turned to face Timber, stifling any further laughter quickly and giving him all of their attention, straight-faced. "Just getting ready, Timber. Nothing untoward going on here." Mary's face was stone cold, her discipline taking over.

"Good." Mumbled Timber as he turned to the terminal to check the bio-readouts. "I would like to think you regarded my equipment with nothing other than the utmost respect they deserve. Can you guys attach your heart monitors, please? I need to test their output."

Swiftly and without word, they both attached a plastic lead onto their chest and waited for clearance from Timber.

He nodded as he watched the readouts. "Good. All is well. As you were probably told in the briefing, this ship is on remote control and automatic guidance until it approaches your destination, LV-943, yes?"

Marcus nodded back, "Yes, that's it."

"Upon approach, you will be woken and will need to man your stations in the cockpit to monitor your landing, which should be either guided by a Navicom at your destination or performed by the ship automatically."

Timber continued, "You will begin cryo-stasis in a few minutes and then I'll initiate take off not long after. I take it you've appropriately stowed your equipment?"

"Yes, sir." They both replied in unison.

"Alright then. Please climb inside and secure your pods."

Both Marcus and Mary slid down into the cushioned confines of their stasis pods and pulled the clear plexiglass covers shut, the thud and click of the locking mechanism sounding quite hollow and muted inside the pods. The agents both looked straight up to the ceiling as Timber continued working on his console at the base of their pods. Marcus picked a small blemish on the steel ceiling and focused on it.

"Alright. Everything is ready and is as it should be." He turned to the two agents who could see him through the glass. His voice clear in their pods through a radio speaker. "I'm off now. I've set the ship to commence stasis in 3 minutes. You'll take off 2 minutes after that. Good luck." He saluted somewhat half heartedly and disappeared from view.

Marcus turned to look for Mary, her face visible in her pod 2 metres across the way to his right, already looking back at him and grinning.

"Sorry, Mary. I'm trapped in this thing. I can't go get your tampons." Marcus jibed.

Mary, smiling and shaking her head slowly at the bad joke, replied, "Don't worry. I'm suuure they have a supermarket on LV-943."

A sharp voice interrupted the conversation, jolting them both straight in their pods as Timber's voice cut through the radio. "HEY! Enough banter! Stow that attitude or I'll report you for disciplinary action!"

They both mumbled, "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." And the radio cut out again.

Marcus looked back to Mary to see she was poking her tongue out at him, which he promptly replied by giving her the finger. After a quick smile, her face straightened, signalling the end of the conversation.

They both straightened up, looking at the ceiling again through the plexiglass, waiting for the cryo-sleep to begin. They never noticed when they dropped out of consciousness 2 minutes later.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Slightly groggy and slow to move, Marcus regained consciousness and became aware of his surroundings. He blinked several times to focus his vision, which was a little blurry.

He leaned up, his forehead slightly touching the plexiglass canopy of his stasis pod. Grumbling, he released the latch on the left and the pod swung open, letting in a cold rush of air, jolting him awake with a moan.

He leaned up further and pulled his feet out onto the floor. He raised his head slowly to let the blood flow catch up. He rubbed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

He heard a slight pop and turned to see Mary's pod open as well and she started to rise up, hunching her elbows behind her, propping herself up as she blinked and turned towards him.

"Hello sleepyhead." Marcus greeted her. She replied with a groan and pulled her feet inward and swivelled around and sat on the edge of her pod, inhaling deeply as Marcus did.

Marcus planted his bare feet on the cool steel floor, feeling the lines of the steel grating bite into his soles as he stretched his arms and body up, listening with satisfaction as his whole body erupted in a series of snaps and clicks, his body was stiff no longer.

Turning around, he idly itched his stomach, feeling the outlines of his six-pack protrude through the material, and faced Mary as she began to stand and stretch in the same way. They were both working through the standard procedure for waking up from hyper sleep. Take it slowly, wait for your blood flow to catch up with you as you inhale deeply, stand and stretch up.

"Why doesn't Timber ever program the heaters to turn as when we wake up?" she complained as she relaxed from her stretch and turned to face him. She was quite grumpy. "Bastard!"

Marcus felt like throwing another sarcastic joke her way. "Because if he did, it would erode the hard and tough training we do everyday. We would become soft and wussy people and would not live up to the stringent standards set by our well-reputed organization."

Mary gave Marcus a cold and humourless stare. "Shut up."

Marcus turned and strolled to his locker, not planning to speak to her any further until she became less grumpy. She hated cryo-sleep. She hated waking up. She liked to sleep in.

He opened his locker, a cotton white T-shirt, grey jumper and black trousers hanging on a coat hanger. He proceeded to dress himself, stealing looks over at Mary as she stood before her locker and stretched up again. Her pert breasts pushed out against the material of her singlet through her sports bra, their shape easy to see. Her nipples were poking.

Concentrating on getting dressed, he reached down for his socks and boots, slipping them both on quickly and lacing up. Mary was only now just reaching into her locker and retrieving her T-shirt.

"See you up front." He said to her and she nodded as she pulled the T-shirt over her head.

She'll feel better when we have something to eat and a hot drink, he thought to himself, and set off towards the door to the small kitchen and common area next door.

He stepped through the open trapezoidal door, his boots thumping sharply down on the steel grating floor. A dark and cold looking steel corridor snaked off to the right and he could see the dining table and chairs, fixed to the floor through the open doorway down the way.

The layout and décor of the insides of the small ship were much like that of a submarine from back in the late 20th century. Cramped, cold, steel piping lining the walls and ceiling, the floor consisting primarily of steel grating, cables visible below. He felt like he was a turd squeezing through a small maze of steel intestines. He didn't like small spaces, cramped and shut in, but he wasn't claustrophobic either. He just didn't like it and put up with it when he had to.

He quickly walked down to the left from the kitchen doorway and up a small ladder, up to the cockpit. He had to check if they were wakened because they were approaching LV-943. A quick check on a terminal at the top of the ladder confirmed it. 2 hours to kill before the planet could be raised on the comms and a landing performed. He slid back down the ladder to the corridor and strolled into the kitchen.

Like the cryo-centre, the kitchen was a cold room, steel walls and floors, cold and bleak. Functional.

A white table and chairs, enough to seat six people with a squeeze was bolted to the floor by the doorway. To the right of that was a smallish area closed off by bench space where the fridge and food cupboards were located, next to the microwave oven and rehydrater.

He opened the fridge, a bright white light partially hidden behind a stack of ready made meals. He grabbed two from the top. Eggs with sausage, tomato, mushroom and spinach leaves. An English breakfast.

He stowed them both into the microwave just as Mary walked in, dressed the same as Marcus, her black hair a little tangled as it rested lazily on her shoulders, bouncing as she shuffled towards him.

"Eggs and sausage of the finest quality coming right up." He joked lightly.

"Hey, they're not that bad you know." She stood before him, looking a little sheepish. "Sorry for being a bitch back there."

"It's alright, show us your tits and you're forgiven." He grinned mischievously as he turned back towards the microwave.

"You show me yours and I'll show you mine." She replied, poking him in his lower back.

"Hey!" He whirled back around at the jab as she cornered him against the fridge. "I'm not that kind of man. Who do you take me for?" still joking. An erection rising in his pants.

"Well, you do have a reputation as a bachelor to maintain, don't you? You're the man who had Angel once, after all." The air temperature seemed to get hot of all of a sudden as she leaned in closer towards him.

"Well…" he began to stammer.

PING!

They both looked to the microwave, the sound cutting through the mood and seemingly bringing them out of the tense little stand-off.

"Hungry?" Marcus stammered.

"Gimme." She ordered, her voice back to playful as she reached for her plastic encased meal.

Marcus sucked his stomach in as she reached passed him, the erection is his boxers straining and pulsing. He didn't see her see, but Mary saw it as she reached across. She grabbed the meal and turned away to sit down at the table.

Marcus grabbed his meal awkwardly and followed. What's wrong with me? I seduced Angel and half of her fans! Why am I goofing around like a geek? he cursed to himself. He sat down across the table from her, popping the plastic top off the meal box, the steam puffing up into his face, the smell of eggs and the slightly spiced sausage filling his nostrils. Tensely, he grabbed the fork and stabbed it into the soggy scrambled eggs, not saying a thing.

Aware of the tense atmosphere, Mary also didn't speak as she scooped up her eggs too, shovelling them in as Marcus took his time. The break helping her to remember just how hungry she was. Marcus was the same. The act of satisfying their stomachs was a welcome distraction.

Marcus cut into his sausage when Mary broke the silence, 'You want some coffee?"

"Yeah, thanks." He kept his eyes on his meal as she rose and disappeared behind him. He felt more relaxed now. "Hey, I checked the telemetry upstairs, we got 2 hours until we come within range."

He didn't realize the counter-productiveness of his comment until Mary took the inadvertent bait, "Oh, all that time to kill, huh? What are we gonna do to pass the time?" as she pressed the button on the coffeemaker, waiting for it to boil up.

To hell with it, let's see where this goes, he thought. "Hey you're the one with the brains between the two of us. I'm sure you can use your imagination." He turned and gave her a cheeky look.

She turned back towards him, leaning on the bench across from him. Her hair falling across her face. "Hmm. I have something on my mind."

He feigned deep interest, "Oh? What's that?"

She looked off to the side, as though she was daydreaming. "Well, it involves the two of us."

Now he was interested. "Oh? Go on."

She started twirling her hair with her finger, she looked like a teenage schoolgirl, "It also involves something, long…. hard….."

Marcus gulped.

"…. And dangerous."

He frowned slightly.

She looked back at him, a light-hearted look on her face. "We gotta check our gear and guns. They'll need a clean."

"Oh." The disappointment he tried to hide was plain for her to detect.

"Why, what did you think I meant?" she teased.

"I thought you had a dirty mind." He tried to hide his disappointment again with another joke, "But it turns out you're squeaky clean."

She turned and came back, two cups of coffee in hand. She flicked her hair and grinned, "Don't bet on it." She walked up to him, set his coffee on the table in front of him and strolled out. "It's hot. Don't burn your lips….." She pouted, letting Marcus watch her ass wiggle as she disappeared out the door, leaving him alone with his cup of coffee, half-finished breakfast and an erection.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

They were both seated in the cockpit 2 hours later, all dirty thoughts banished from their minds as they got down to business. It was a cramped place, sloping downward, there were two chairs at a pilot's console at the front, and two chairs behind that, higher up for comms, navigation and everything else. The cockpit was dark, peppered with soft glowing lights from the many buttons and switches that covered the consoles and low-lying ceiling panels.

Mary clicked the comms unit on and spoke into her headset, wriggling into her seat to get comfortable at the front.

"LV-943 Tango Nero this is Alpha Niner requesting navicom guidance for a landing."

A calm, almost bored voice responded, the static only slight. "Roger that, standby for link-up."

Marcus sat in a similar seat behind Mary. It was a strange sight. The small planet, appearing large given they were so close, enveloped the window in front of him. A great grey ball, clouds blotting out great tracks of land, craters everywhere. Some of them were huge. It all looked like a gigantic halo around Mary head.

The bored voice crackled into Mary's headset again, sounding uncomfortable. "Uh Alpha Niner, we are currently having issues with our Navicom. We need to reboot and reconfigure."

"Copy that." Mary replied, cool and controlled. "ETA on the uplink?"

"uh…. This could take quite a while. Say 12 hours. Apologies for the delay Alpha Niner. We'll raise you when the Navicom's online again."

Mary turned around in her chair, looking back up to Marcus, shaking her head in disgust. "Roger that. We'll remain in orbit and await your OK. Out." She took her headset off, disabling it. "Fucking retards."

Marcus pretended to be annoyed at the delay. "12 hours? Well, this is hard work."

Mary turned and rose from her chair, sitting down on a step next to Marcus, at his feet, staring at the grey planet ahead. "Now we really need to think of something to do."

Marcus decided to calm her down, "Well, we could play hide and seek."

"Hmph." A small chuckle as she ran her hand through her hair. "Not many places to hide in this ship. What about eye spy?"

"Something beginning with P?" he joked pointing at the planet ahead. They both laughed.

"Well, you could play with your dollies." Marcus teased.

She mocked offence and stood before him, towering over him as he leaned back in his chair. "Take that back or I won't tell you where I hid your high heels."

Marcus reached forward to poke her, "Hey! Give them back!" he joked, leaning forward to reach out for her, but she caught his hand roughly.

"What will you give me in return?" all traces of a smile disappeared from her face as she stared him right in the eyes.

Marcus also went serious, clutching her hand tightly in his. "What do you want?" he asked, his erection back again, his heart pumping.

She leaned forward and let one of her knees rest on his arm rest as her hair draped down on his face. "What have you got to give me?"

He pulled sharply on her hand, bringing her down on him, her knees cutting uncomfortably into his legs and her hands pinning his shoulders back as she struggled not to crash into him. Their noses inches apart. Neither of them flinched away. "Well, I'm not sure if you can handle it."

She parted her lips, pouting slightly and breathing faster, her breath massaging his lips. "Try me."

She leaned in and kissed him. Marcus was awestruck, but his instincts kicked in, killing all traces of hesitation, as he grabbed her top by the scruff of the neck and pulled her closer. She did the same, grabbing his arm and as she writhed on top of him. Their long kiss passionate and forceful, lips locked together as their tongue danced against each other's. He let go of her top and grabbed the back of her neck, sliding his hand smoothly through her hair.

Their lips parted momentarily, both of them moaning, breathing out hot and fast. Marcus nearly came on the spot as she reached down and roughly grabbed his straining cock, squeezing it. Growling, one hand still behind her neck, he grabbed and massaged her left breast through her top with his other hand, her nipples rock hard and begging to be pinched. She gasped, as he did just that and she fumbled to unzip his pants, eager to get his cock out.

Absorbed in the moment, charged and horny, he threw her off him, sending her back up to her feet and catching herself on the console behind her, shocked and surprised. Marcus wasted no time as he rose up out of his seat, unzipping his trousers and sliding his belt open as he stood before her. Her shocked posture disappeared as she pushed into him, straining up to kiss him again, and trying to help him open his belt.

The belt clicked open and his pants promptly started to slip down, revealing his boxer shorts, or rather a large pitched tent. Marcus stopped as she massaged her hand slowly along his still hidden shaft and deftly undid the button on his boxers. His cock promptly tumbled out, poking into her thigh as she stared into his eyes.

"Oh God." He exclaimed. "Mary, I want you."

"Fuck me." She growled as she leaned back and he quickly reached for her pants, pulling them down to her knees, thankful they were elastic.

Her panties, a white G string, beckoned him and he summarily ripped them down to her knees. He had some trouble sliding them down further and over her shoes, his frustration building, but she shook her legs and squirmed to help him. He breathed a sigh of victory when they finally slipped off and he threw them across the cockpit into a pilot's chair. He stood up to face her, but saw her crouch down and swiftly take his cock in her mouth, her fingers lightly massaging across his legs.

"Oh god! Oh fuck!" He breathed as he felt her tongue swirling around the head of his penis. He had never been so turned on in his life when her looked down and saw her slate blue eyes looking back up at him, telling him she was just as horny as he was, his cock in her mouth, her lips sliding back and forth as she sucked him.

He reached down and grabbed the bottom hem of her top. Understanding, she raised her arms and leaned back off him as he ripped the top and T-Shirt up over her head, tossing them behind him. He reached down again, grabbing the back of her head and pulled her up, her black curled hair messy and cascading down all over her face. She rose in time with him and undid her bra letting it drop to the floor at their feet.

Like an animal on heat, he grabbed her arms and wrestled her around and shoved her into his chair. He leaned down on her and growled as she opened her legs, revealing her bare vagina. He paused as he took in the sight of her, her skin tanned a slight caramel brown, her body tight and athletic, her breasts pert and nipples hard and poking.

Her hair tumbling down across her face, she almost yelled at him, "Oh, fuck me, please!"

Wasting no time, he pulled his top and T-shirt up and over his head in a smooth motion, letting her get a good look as his chiseled physique.

As though in pain, she whimpered, "Please…."

Wasting no further time, he grabbed his cock and guided himself down. She raised her pelvis up, eager to get him inside her and they both gasped as he slid into her. They were so wet that Marcus nearly missed on his thrust into her, but the feeling of her vagina enveloping his cock was instant ecstasy. It was the same for her, he could feel his shaft, hard and stiff inside her, penetrating her, filling her.

Marcus started thrusting, slowly at first, but he quickly sped up as Mary thrusted herself up on him, grinding, finding a good rhythm together.

"Oh fuck! Goddamn fuck! Oh Marcus!" She was almost screaming as her hands latched onto Marcus' arms, squeezing his rock hard muscles.

Consumed by his ecstatic stupor, hearing her scream his name sent a tingle through his crotch and he could feel he was going to cum very soon. He was already clutching up tight down there.

Sensing this, Mary grinded into him more aggressively as she too felt she would cum soon.

The rush of an impending orgasm consumed Marcus as he lost control of himself, pummelling into her, grunting and panting. He growled and almost screamed as he felt his cock squeeze and pulse as he climaxed inside her. His eyes started to roll into the back of his head as he heard Mary scream and wail, her vagina gripping onto his cock and the short nails of her fingers bite into his arms as she also started to climax.

Their bodies both spasmed, writhing and clenching as they came together, breathing stunted heaves of air as they rode the climax and collapsed down into the chair in a delirium.

Mary whispered into his ear, "Oh God, Marcus. I wanted you so bad. You have no idea how much I've been wanting you."

Marcus, laying on top of her, spent and sweating, whispered back, "I've wanted to fuck you since the first time I saw you."

Surprised, Mary started laughing. Her body spasming and clenching as her laughter caught her and wouldn't let go. Marcus quickly pulling himself out of her as the muscles in her pelvis threatened to snap his penis in half. He joined her in the stupor, belly laughing violently, not being able to contain it.

The absurdity of the situation, the culmination of their desires finally upon them after such a strong attraction neither of them had the courage to explore for 8 months, washed over them until they both finally calmed down and embraced each other, new meaning flowing between them.


	4. Down to Business

**Chapter 4: Down to business**

After their first encounter in the cockpit, Mary and Marcus rendezvoused twice more, consumed by their passion, happy to abandon all notion of pretence alone in the small ship together.

After the 12 hours expired, they headed to the cockpit, only to hear that more time was required to fix the Navicom down on the planet's surface.

Not that Mary and Marcus weren't unhappy about that as they called it a night…. so to speak.

They awoke in the morning, giggling and flirty. After meeting in the kitchen, they sat down to have a breakfast of hydrated milk and protein cereal.

As they began to tuck into their breakfast, Mary again shoveling it down, Marcus regarded her for a moment, a sense of seriousness in his mind. "Mary?"

She looked up to him, her cereal crunching away as she chewed.

"When we get down there, we're gonna have to be professional. We can't let this get in the way of our jobs." He said, disappointed to abandon the fun and lively atmosphere.

She returned the serious look. "Don't worry, babe. We're both professionals. We know discipline when it is required. We can handle it."

Reassured, Marcus replied, "Yeah, I know. I suppose I just needed to say that."

Mary smiled slightly, "Don't worry. I know what you're saying. When we work, we are soldiers. We both know that either or both of us could die." The mood dropped. "But we are soldiers. We are cold, calculating and methodical. We don't let our emotions get in the way. We react in the moment and don't hesitate. Remember, you and I are a team. The best."

Marcus smiled, reassured immensely by her forthrightness and confidence. "That's right….. sir."

Mary looked back up from her cereal and looked at his slightly puzzled, "Sir?"

"That's right. You slightly outrank me, remember? I have to do what you tell me." On a strictly technical basis, back at PROS Mary outranked Marcus by the barest of margins on paper, even if it meant nothing in the field.

Mary smiled, licking her lips. "Is that right, huh? Ooooh." Her eyes flashed. She rose from her seat and stood next to him. Marcus turned in his chair to face her, only to be surprised as she laid a finger on his lips. "Don't move." And she proceeded to kneel down, reaching for his pants. Marcus sat stunned, but obeyed and didn't move as she pulled out his cock and gave him a very satisfying blowjob.

"Sir, yes, sir." He moaned as she giggled.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The dust kicked up all around them as they emerged in their ghost suits, armed and ready, out from the cargo hold of their small ship and out onto the landing bay on LV- 943. Slowly, the dust settled and the swirling air died down to a gentle wind and they could see a meeting party of three standing before them. Marcus and Mary both walked down, stepping side-be-side in time and stopping before them.

Marcus could see the party of three was both impressed and uncomfortable before them. Most people generally were, given the appearance of the ghost suits they were wearing and unnaturally straight posture they always maintained when in the field. After all, PROS not only had to do the job, but impress their clients.

The man standing at the front of the little party, hands behind his back, nodded to them both, "Good morning, sorry for the delay yesterday with the Navicom. I trust you weren't too put out yesterday."

The man couldn't see Marcus and Mary both smile behind their masks at the comment.

He was a relatively tall man, taller than the two behind him, wearing a green boiler suit of some kind. He was quite lean, with greying black hair and an air of distinction about him. His jaw looked strong, reminding both of them of super hero comic book heroes with big chins. The man continued after the short pause. "I am Gordon Lammet, director of security and the incumbent marine officer here. Please, follow us inside where we can continue the introductions."

"Yes, sir." The agents both replied on cue, together in near-perfect unison. The sudden and co-ordinated reply slightly stunned Lammet, not expecting such discipline.

The party turned and opened the door behind them, proceeding down a brightly lit and wide corridor, a mixture of concrete walls, a large blue stripe painted down the way, and steel grating on the floor and ceiling. The air had a stale smell about it, of filtered air conditioning and dust and grease and a hint body odour.

They walked down the corridor, the meeting party were uncomfortable and nervous as they passed other people who stopped and stared at the agents, gob smacked. Most of them were dressed in grey body suits with a company logo of some sort on them. Marcus noticed a child, a small boy, probably about 5 years old, grab his mother's leg and start crying upon seeing him.

After a brisk, but short walk down, Lammet led the party through a doorway, revealing a rudimentary board room / meeting room, where they all sat down as he closed and locked the door. There was a large window facing out into the corridor, which Lammet frosted up at the touch of a button, blocking out the gawking civilians looking in.

Scanning the room, Marcus was surprised to see imitation wood panelling lining the floor.

Marcus and Mary leaned their rifles against the wall behind them and sat down in the steel chairs, removing their helmets. A hiss of pressurized air cut the silence, as the party of three across the table seemed to relax somewhat at being reminded that the ghost agents were real people, glad to see their faces.

Lammet sat down and got the meeting started. "Thank you for coming. I presume you are Marcus Stanford, callsign 'Ahab' and Mary… excuse me I'm not sure how to pronounce your surname…

"Blazich. Callsign 'Dead Eye'." she replied politely.

Embarrassed, Lammet continued. "Thank you. The two people here with me are Harry Morton, Chief Research Officer and Bert Inkerman, Director of Operations."

The two men nodded and smiled politely, Marcus and Mary did the same in return.

Harry Morton was a middle aged man, his greying beard offset by his dyed black and thinning hair and yellow glasses. He looked like an eccentric professor from a prestigious college dressed in a white lab coat with a bow tie poking out of the top collar. Maybe he actually was a professor.

Bret Inkerman looked more like an office worker, his coiffed brown hair matching his deep brown eyes. His face was overly weathered for a man who looked like he in his mid thirties, Marcus' age. He looked like a man who had been through a lot of stress in his life, but came back for more through a love of his job. His demeanour was one of a very capable and hard working nature, obvious through a first impression.

Inkerman appeared confused, "Sorry, what's the significance of your call signs. Where do they come from?"

Mary answered the question politely, "I'm Dead Eye because I'm a sniper. Ahab comes from Moby Dick, the old story about the white whale back. Old literature. One of the characters was a captain with a wooden leg. Marcus' leg was blown off during his previous service in the Military Special Ops. As you can see, it was reattached successfully."

"Did it hurt?" Inkerman blurted.

Marcus took the question in good humour, smiling warmly, "Yes, but, trust me, it hurts more when you stub your toe on the couch in the middle of the night."

Everyone chuckled at the joke. The air relaxed markedly.

Lammet got everyone back to business when the laughing subsided. "Right, now, I understand that Gerry Mcaulin, Director of Security back at head office on Earth has requested your secondment here to provide additional protection and guidance in light of some unexplained disappearances of our personnel here."

"That's right, sir." Marcus replied. "We were shown an audio recording of an incident involving a Morris Liverman, and a distinctive sound on the audio track could be heard. He asked for our opinion of the sound and we replied that it was likely that it originated from a xenomorph. We weren't 100 percent certain given the reduced quality of the recording, but given our still confident opinion, he deemed it prudent for our presence to be requested."

Lammet nodded, "That's right. Now, since that meeting, and presumably during your transit over here, another incident has occurred. An exploration party, a group of 3 people, travelled out to a charted sight under the escort of 5 marines. They were attacked and one marine and one researcher were killed or kidnapped, we aren't sure. They disappeared without a trace. No one was able to identify the attacker or conclusively confirm whether xenomorphs were involved."

The agents nodded.

Lammet continued, frowning, "Now, as head of security here, I voiced an opinion that current exploration and operations should be scaled back to avoid these kinds of incidents, pending an investigation and resolution to this problem, however senior management from head office have shot that recommendation down. They want current activities to continue at full pace."

Inkerman, the director of operations chimed in. "It may be beneficial to give some context as to what we are doing here for you to understand our position here." Lammet nodded and sat back in his chair, allowing him to elaborate. "We are a research and development company, working under contract with Develin Exploration to collect samples and research a curious rock type that was discovered here over a year ago. These rock formations contain crystals that we haven't seen before. These crystals, they look much like diamonds, appear to absorb and store energy when charged with an electrical current. The idea is that they may have some valuable application as a battery or in the generation of electricity. Current testing, being overseen by Harry Morton, to my left, has so far supported this theory and he is exploring the usefulness of these materials with a view to providing a recommendation as to whether full scale mining should proceed."

The agents nodded, confirming their understanding.

"So as you can understand, we have been sending out exploration teams to find sites containing more of these crystals, which vary in size and chemical composition also. The first incident involved a party of three geologists, the second was Morris Liverman who you know about and then the party Lammet just informed you about."

"That makes for 6 missing people so far." Lammet piped in.

"Yes, that's correct." Inkerman acknowledged and continued. "Now, we don't know exactly what we are dealing with here, but given that we have received orders from head office to continue operations and exploration of this planet, you are here to provide additional security support and, should the situation warrant such a course of action, neutralize whatever threat may exist."

Lammet took over again, "Do you have any queries so far?"

Marcus leaned forward, "Yes, sir. Just to confirm, are these incidents the only strange encounters or issues you've come across here? I mean, there haven't been any other attacks of any sort?"

Lammet responded flatly, "No. Just these."

Mary also had a question, "What's the make up of this planet like? I'm presuming it was thought it was lifeless when you set up here?"

Harry Morton, the research officer answered, "Yes, that's correct. This planet is, essentially, one great big rock. No life, no water and had no atmosphere before a processor was established. Much of the areas we have been exploring are cave systems. This suggests that water used to exist on this planet, however long ago that might have been, but so far, besides these incidents, we have had no contact whatsoever with any other kind of foreign life."

Marcus added another question. "How many people do you have here?"

Inkerman answered, "45 civilian personnel net of the disappearances and the marine presence here. About half of that 45 are geologists and researchers of various sorts. The rest are their families and administrative staff."

Lammet also leaned forward, "There, currently, is a detachment of 12 marines, including myself, net of the marine that disappeared 3 days ago. They're armed with standard pulse rifles. Nothing fancy.

Most of the marines are inexperienced and relatively new to the marine corps, however. Myself and my sergeant are the only ones who have seen any sort of real action before. I'll introduce you to them later."

Marcus checked if Mary had any other specific questions, which she didn't, so Marcus asked a fairly standard question. "Well, Lammet, sir. When and how would you like us to get started?"

Lammet replied with another question, "Well, for our benefit, can you walk us through what equipment you have and, pardon my abruptness, but what makes you so special."

The agents both looked at each other, and Marcus replied, "We are both junior agents, meaning that this will be our first full mission. However, we have both done extensive hologram training and are very adept at handling xenomorph encounters. Mary and I are the best of our bunch, so to speak. I am a standard weapons class agent, pulse rifle modified with anti-xenomorph ammunition. Mary is a first class sniper, her rifle is fully automatic and underslung with a grenade launcher like mine. Each of us carries 7 magazines of 200 rounds in the field for our primary firearm. We also carry equipment such as napalm and plastic explosives, portable welders and lockpicks.

Our suits are made from an acid retardant material and our masks contain a high-tech heads-up-display for targeting, motion tracking and infra-red vision.

We are both very capable soldiers, the entry requirements into Proctor Osman are some of the most stringent of all combat organizations, including the military."

Lammet was obviously impressed as he nodded and continued to answer the original question posed to him, "Tomorrow we will be sending out an exploration team to chart a cave that was discovered 2 weeks ago. Preliminary scans indicated a potentially rich vein of crystal. You will accompany the party, supported by a team of 6 marines and provide protection. Harry Morton and I will be conducting a briefing tomorrow morning before the team leaves, so I'll get you to attend too. I'll come get you 0930 tomorrow. Remember, the day cycle here is 26 hours, so it's not too far different to Earth, thankfully."

The agents both nodded.

"Is there anything else you wished to discuss here?" Inkerman added.

Mary answered, "No, we've studied the layout and manifest of this facility, but a quick tour would still be helpful."

"That's fine and I'll show you your private quarters. Well if there's nothing else, we may as well do that then." He replied.

They all rose from their seats and shook hands across the table. Marcus and Mary both put their masks back on and slung their rifles over their shoulders.

Lammet opened the door politely, letting everyone file out into the hallway. Many of the civilians gawking previously resumed doing so, fascinated by the PROS agents' foreign appearance. Some of the men appeared to watch Mary in particular, her svelte figure obvious due to the ghost suit's tight fit, figure hugging. Conversely, some of the women also seemed to be looking up Marcus, his muscular build also obvious through the tight suit.

The complex was arranged in a large cross of hallways with various rooms, labs and quarters branching off like a hotel wing. The northern wing was residential and private quarters. The eastern wing was the marine quarters and barracks. The southern wing was research and development. The western wing was common facilities and storage.

They passed through the living quarters, their quarters was a shared room with two single beds and some sparse shelving, both of the agents smiling privately behind their masks.

Later, they passed through the research labs, men and women in white coats working under electron microscopes, men in clean suits processing samples. All quite high-tech looking.

They proceeded next to the barracks to meet up with the marines and their sergeant, all gathered in a large hall, surrounded by various crates and equipment. They were a relatively motley looking crew, many of them relatively young, almost kids. They looked 21 or younger, all boys. The sergeant was easy to pick out from the rest of them. He was physically larger and carried himself differently. The all turned and gave them their attention immediately as they walked through the doorway. A mixture of curiosity, contempt and fear.

Lammet and the PROS agents stood before the marine squad, the marines settling down from their banter. Lammet stepped forward to address them. "Alright ladies, these two agents are from Proctor Osman, PROS, for short. They are the help we were promised and are here to provide assistance to determine what's going on, and if appropriate, neutralize any identified threat. They are the best of the best. They are xenomorph specialists. They are stationed here as long as is required. The man on my left has the callsign 'Ahab', the woman has the callsign 'Dead Eye'. They will both directly rank under me, meaning if I'm not around, you follow their orders."

"Oh man that's fucked!" complained one of the marines.

"Yeah, but she's got nice tits!" exclaimed another, sending many of them erupting in laughter.

Lammet shot a look to the sergeant, telling him to ignore them and stay quiet. Instead he turned to the agents and whispered, "Earn their respect." And turned back to the marines.

Mary stepped forward, staring straight at the young marine who commented about her breasts. He started right back at her, trying to look tough as the others backed away from him slowly. He started to tremble slightly, but still tried to keep his game face on.

Marry was standing approximately 1 metre from him, looking up at him, given he was nearly a whole foot taller. "I'm sorry, what did you say about my tits, private?"

"Uh…. I said…" he stammered before snapping over in a cartwheel as she performed a lightning fast round house kick to his shoulder. The other soldiers stood stunned as they watched the young man fly across the room and skid along the concrete floor, bumping into a large crate, unconscious.

They all turned in unison back to Mary, their mouths agape. Stunned.

Mary took off her mask, her hair bunched up tightly, but dropped out gracefully as she pulled the pin holding it together. She flipped her head around, Charlie's Angel style, letting her deep black hair flick around, dazzling them.

She flashed her eyes, scanning the stunned crowd before her, "Let's get one thing straight. Nobody shit-talks us. You do what we say when we say without question. We are here to help you. We may save your life. If anyone ever shit-talks us or shows us disrespect again, my colleague, Ahab, will hit you harder than I can."

Marcus had a point of flexing his ample muscles under his ghost suit, the definition plain to see.

Mary smiled, asking softly "Can I get a sir, yes, sir?"

"SIR, YES, SIR!" They yelled in perfect unison, standing straight and to attention. Scared shitless.

"Thank you, gentlemen." She donned her mask back on again and stood beside Marcus, both of them like statues as they stared at the group, waiting for Lammet to collect himself.

"Well… uh, you heard the lady. Treat them with the utmost respect whilst they serve with you here. We'll catch you all tomorrow morning in the briefing room for tomorrow's expedition where they will provide additional escort. At ease."

The marines barely moved, stuck fast as they all eyed the ghosts uncomfortably. Lammet and the ghosts strolled casually out of the hall, back into the central corridor. "Jesus Christ! That was impressive!"

Marcus was feeling cocky, "Wait 'til you see us in action against xeno's. That's what we specialize in after all."

At the central junction, Lammet bid them good day and left them to their own devices. They both strolled casually back to the landing pad, ignoring the celebrity-like curiosity from the civilians along the way. Their ship's cargo doors open, they both strolled inside to collect their personal bags.

As they reached the cryo-centre, Marcus grabbed Mary by the arm and ripped his mask off, staring at her through her golden eye-lenses. "Fuck, Mary. Watching you do that makes me really horny."

She stepped back from him, removed her helmet, flicking her hair just like she did to the marines, "Oh yeah? Show me."

Marcus dove forward, crash tackling her to the floor, Mary squealing with surprise. "Alright! I give up!"

"Ha ha!" Marcus joked. "So that makes up MY prisoner. You have to do as I say!"

Mary bit her lip, "Oh dear……" grinning naughtily. "What do you plan to do to me, master?"

"Oh yeah, say that again."

Mary poured it on, "Oh please, master….. be gentle."

Marcus knew full-well she liked it rough…….


	5. First Encounter

**Chapter 5: First encounter**

The room hushed quickly as they entered the lecture hall for the morning briefing. The sudden hush slowly building back up again as the people in the hall whispered amongst themselves.

Marcus and Mary were both dressed in their ghost suits again their masks on for the time being, their weapons left behind in their room. They could both see everyone, most of them seated, as they turned and stared at them, mouths agape or tongues wagging to the people next to them.

It was a fairly standard stadium seating lecture hall, pale blue carpet rolling down the hall-wide stairs down to the presentation podium at the bottom where Lammet and Inkerman were standing, hands behind their back as they watched as well. It had a capacity to seat fifty people, with one main walkway down the middle and plastic seats, bolted to the floor, branching off from either side of the walkway.

Mary stepped ahead of Marcus, ignoring the excitement and unease of the gawking audience and stepped down an empty aisle of seats near the front right. She sat down, leaving a spare aisle seat as Marcus sat down next to her.

The whispers were starting to engulf the room, but Lammet spoke to hush them down.

"Good morning everyone. I take it you've all had a good look at our additional security agents. Before I introduce them, I'll give some context as to why they are here for those who are unaware.

Well… most of you are aware of the mysterious disappearances that have occurred over the passed fortnight or so. It is currently unknown what the cause and meaning of these disappearances is about. However, there was the concern that a particularly dangerous type of alien life form may be involved."

Many in the audience began murmuring.

"However, before anyone gets too concerned about this, I would like to reiterate that the cause of these incidents is unknown. These agents, commonly referred to as ghosts, are here as a precautionary measure, only. When teams go out into the field, they will provide escort and security in addition to the existing marine presence already stationed here. They are here to guarantee your safety."

A short, rotund man in a white coat stood and yelled, "How can you guarantee that?! You can't!"

Lammet replied quickly and loudly before anyone else had a chance to cause a small hysteria. "These soldiers…." But he stopped as Marcus rose in his chair and casually strode to the front podium, standing beside Lammet. The room was silent as everyone watched him intently. The fat man, however, was still standing in his seat.

Marcus turned and faced the audience as he slowly removed his helmet, revealing his face. Scanning the crowd of 30, including the marines, he began to speak. "I think now is a good time to introduce ourselves. My callsign is Ahab and my colleague is Dead Eye." As he gestured over to Mary, who sat casually in her seat, her legs crossed and her arm resting in the back of her seat. He couldn't see her wink at him behind her mask.

He turned back to the audience, making sure to arc his attention across the room to address everyone, "We are, if you like, super soldiers specializing in xenomorph activity. To be quite blunt, and I don't mean to be immodest, but we are the very best in the business and will protect you all with our lives if necessary. To add some reassurance, Proctor Osman agents as a total have killed over 400 xenomorphs in direct combat in the field, with only one casualty and a 100 percent mission success rate with other clients. You will not be an exception, I assure you." He looked directly to the fat man still standing and addressed him directly. "We will not let you down…… thank you."

He nodded at Lammet and proceeded to walk back to his seat next to Mary, Lammet continued on with the briefing as he sat down, Mary punching him lightly on the shoulder affectionately.

"Well now I trust that make everyone feel better. Lets get one with the job. Bret?"

Inkerman stepped forward and began a presentation, talking to a map projected on the wall outlining the expedition's destination and objective for the day. There were no more outbursts or security related questions forthcoming from the audience after that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The plan was to explore a series of shallow rocky dune formations 57 kilometres north of home base and scan for crystals and perform drilling and take samples if possible.

3 geologists, a 2 man drill team and an engineer made up the science representatives of the little expedition, escorted by 6 marines and the two ghost agents. It took over an hour by buggy before they arrived, the landscape clear and empty. No activity whatsoever. Not a whiff of wind in the air.

Out of the two buggies, Mary sat in the front one with 3 marines and the geologists and Marcus sat in the second buggy with the other 3 marines and the drill team and engineer.

Marcus scanned the horizon methodically as the drove, his fellow passengers blatantly choosing not to talk to him, however Mary's company was a little more sociable.

A marine, scruffy brown hair reaching down through his helmet leaned forward. "Hi, I'm private Anderson. That was some really fancy stuff you did back in the barracks. Westerman, the guy you floored, took over 2 hours to wake up. How did you do that?"

Mary continued to scan the horizon coldly through her mask as she replied, "I used to be in British SAS and special ops. Hand-to-hand combat training. That was kung-fu."

"Wow… huh huh." He chuckled goofishly.

Another young marine, a young Asian boy, also leaned forward yelling a question over the buggy's engine. "Do you really think one of those xenomorph things is out there?"

She ignored him, continuing to look out her open window.

He persisted, changing tact, "Well hey! Have you ever killed anyone before?"

Mary turned her head and stared directly at him, causing him to lean back in his chair uncomfortably. She replied coldly, "What do you think?" before turning back to her window.

The marine next to the Asian boy smacked the back of his helmet, "You dumb bitch! She's a super soldier. 'Course she has."

No one spoke for the rest of the trip.

Dust coughed up into the air as the biggies pulled to a stop, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, having arrived.

Mary stepped out into the rough dirt, scanning the landscape. Red and brown dirt rolled on into the distance, pebbles and rocks littering the ground. A small cliff rose out of the dirt to her right, interrupting the sparse landscape and cutting up into the faint blue grey sky. The white sun glowing down lightly, the air cool and still.

Mary turned to Marcus, 20 metres away, as he stepped out of his buggy, his pulse rifle slung over his shoulder. "Ahab, you take your 3 marines, form an arc on our six. I'll cover the front."

"Agree." He replied without hesitation and prompted his three marines to fan out. Mary did the same as they formed a circular perimeter around the site.

Xiao, a middle-aged Asian man, one of the geologists, caught up with Mary before she started to set out to explore. "We'll start our terrain scans and let you know if we need to move on to another site. Should take about 20 minutes."

Mary nodded back, the red dirt reflecting eerily on her masks golden eye plates. "We'll secure the perimeter and keep an eye out." Xiao promptly turned and joined the other scientists as they prepared their equipment.

The twenty five minutes it took for Xiao to report back a successful scan was thoroughly uneventful. The marines stationed in a circle around the convoy site were thoroughly bored, but stayed at their posts. The marines weren't overly excited to hear the scan showed no crystal veins in the rock and they had to drive 10 kilometres down the way to scan another site.

After a twenty minute drive, the terrain becoming more rocky and unstable, the buggy convoy pulled up. As before, the ghosts and the marines formed a perimeter, watching for danger, Mary and Marcus circling the site, scanning out into the distance, giving particular attention to rocky crevices that increasingly dotted the landscape.

Marcus took a moment to watch the geology team drill a small down into the dirt, only down about a metre and then begin their scan, letting the probe map the rock below. He turned back, wafting his eyesight along the rolling hills before him, following the smooth curves.

Mary, patrolling the other side of the perimeter also scanned her horizon, her landscape much more broken up by crevices and small juts of rock out of the dirt. As she stepped passed a bored marine, she stopped as something in the distance caught her attention. "Ahab." She said into her radio mic embedded in her mask, "thought I saw something move, 3 o'clock. Will investigate."

"Copy. No movement on the motion tracker." He replied.

The marine standing behind Mary felt nervous as she stepped away from him, her gun up in front of her, her posture straight, yet relaxed. "What's goin' on?" he whispered.

Her back to him, Mary raised her hand and pointed upwards, gesturing for him to stay quiet. She then began to jog silently out into the dirt and rocks as Marcus stepped in beside the nervous marine, watching her intently. Marcus and Mary both hunched over, readying their guns as a signal on their trackers blinked on the HUD in their masks, a reading ahead and to the left of Mary's position 90 metres away, moving slowly further away. "Confirm signal." Marcus said coldly into his mic.

"Confirm." Mary replied without hesitation. "Stalking target, not visible. Stand by."

"Roger."

The marine next to Marcus was visibly nervous as he stepped towards him, "What's goin' on? You see something?"

Marcus continued looking out in the distance as he replied sharply, "Keep you mouth shut, private. Man your post."

Suddenly Mary began to run to her left, "Visual sighting! Confirmed xeno drone, 50 metres and closing fast! Will engage!"

"Confirmed!" Marcus bolted down after her to provide support, a dark figure catching his attention.

Mary saw the black-blue xenomorph scrambling towards her, darting back and forth between juts of rock, skipping in and out of her line of fire. Its tail bobbed and bounced as it ran on all fours, its face looking up for her. Its arms and legs thrashing along the ground, kicking up dust.

Keeping calm, she trained her rifle, trying to get a bead on it. Turning right, she caught the xenomorph down her sights in mid flight as it leaped from a boulder towards a jagged rock formation. Calm and controlled, she lined up the drone and fired a double-tap, catching it solidly in the upper chest and sending it tumbling into the dirt. "2 hits! Confirming kill!" she shouted into her mic.

Marcus slowed his run towards her, but did not relax, "Copy. Covering from your 5."

Mary kept her sniper rifle up and ready as she approached the downed drone, laying splayed out and still in the dirt. As she reached it, she slowed to a walk and circled it, checking it was dead.

It's chest rib cage was dimpled inwards quite violently, the bullet's core having dispersed and embedded throughout it's soft tissue. It was quite clearly dead. Mary relaxed her posture slightly as she grinned back at the alien's fixed dead smile, its smooth head and translucent teeth glinting in the soft sunlight. "Kill confirmed. That's one dead drone." She called back to Marcus.

"Nice work." He replied as he rounded a boulder and saw her standing over the drone. "I'll bring it back to the convoy. You man the perimeter."

"Roger." She turned and faced him as he approached, and walked towards him. She slapped him on the bum as she stepped passed him and jogged back to the convoy.

The sight of the dead xenomorph sent a shiver up Marcus' spine. Finally, one in the flesh. One of the most dangerous and vicious of monsters known in the universe, laying dead in the dirt, it's tail curled around behind it's legs. He bent down and carefully wrapped his hands around a knuckle in the alien's sharp tail, careful to avoid the razor spine on the end.

Mary stood guard back at the convoy as she watched him drag the dead alien back, jogging as he pulled by the tail one-handed until the marines saw it.

"Holy shit! They got it!" yelped the Asian marine next to her. In a start, the other marines promptly abandoned their posts and ran over to get a look. They were all exclaiming and swearing in amazement and fear-tinged excitement as they looked down at the fierce creature, keeping their distance.

Marcus let the drone lie in the dirt as he unslung his rifle and addressed Xiao who was staring over at them, his mouth agape. "Sir, please finish up your scan. We'll head back to base once you're done. We're taking this back with us."

Xiao gulped and turned back to his work and the other geologists as they gawked over at the dead alien. He yelled at them and they hurriedly got back to work.

"That was fuckin' awesome! Jesus shit!" The marines were congratulating Mary who largely ignored them.

Marcus reached back down and picked the alien up carefully, hoisting it over his shoulder and headed for the second buggy. The marines in his way quickly backed away, squealing and nervous. Marcus felt strange having the alien hoisted up over his shoulder. It reminded him of one time he held Angel up and over his shoulder when she passed out at a party, he could feel her arms dangling down, her fingers lightly grazing the small of his back. However, this alien's arms were quite stiff and uncomfortable as it's pointed fingers poked uncomfortable into his buttocks.

The aliens skin felt cold and unnaturally hard, undulated, like a it's smooth dimples and ridges on its skin were made from steel. Thankfully, it was dry and devoid of any goo, except for what dribble out of it's mouth behind him into the dirt.

The suspension on the buggy bounced as Marcus unceremoniously dumped the drone into the buggy's empty back tray, it's tail hanging down the side, the razor tip just touching the dirt. He regarded it curiously for a moment. It lay on its side in a foetal position. It just looked like it was sleeping.

If it had been hit by a burst of fire using conventional rounds it would have instead have been a torn and mangled mess, not a neat looking specimen.

Mary yelled at the jumpy marines to go back to their posts, which they quickly did, eager to avoid getting a round-house kick to the head. Marcus and Mary resumed their patrol pattern. Not long after, Xiao announced they had finished, again finding nothing, they jumped into the buggies and headed back to base. The marines in the buggy with Marcus eyed the dead alien in the back, transfixed by its menacing teeth and jaw and all of the strange undulations and marking and textures all over its body.

For the entire ride home, none of them said a word as they stared at it, the realization that if there was one there were likely to be more scaring the shit out of them quietly.


	6. What Next?

**Chapter 6: What Next?**

On their approach back to the research station, Marcus ordered the buggy to stop as he draped a tarpaulin sheet over the body of the dead alien in the back. They had to handle this situation carefully to avoid a panic.

Mary radioed ahead and organized for them to have clear access to the garage. They arrived quickly and smoothly, pulling to a stop inside with the roller shutters smashing closed behind them. No one had seen them, everyone was inside besides some marine guards.

Lammet, Inkerman and the marine sergeant were waiting for them. They all stared at the tarpaulin on the back of the second buggy nervously, none of them missed the tail hanging out from underneath as it scraped along the concrete floor.

"So, it's confirmed then. Let me see it." Lammet ordered, eager and reluctant at the same time to see the truth, the confirmation that they had a very real and dangerous problem.

Marcus pulled back the tarpaulin, uncovering the dead and very intact xenomorph underneath to the gasps and wide eyes of those standing above them on the loading dock.

Inkerman was looking particularly nervous, "You sure it's dead?"

"I put two solid rounds in it. It's dead." Mary reassured him. Marcus took a hold of the alien's frozen open hand and shook it like a handshake for dramatic effect, letting the arm drop down onto the steel tray of the buggy, the arm clanging down and laying still.

Marcus was done watching Lammet and Inkerman stand around scared. "Sir, we need to stow this body in a safe place, where no one can get to it or even find it."

Xiao and his team looked on nervously, uneasy.

The marine sergeant cocked his head and stepped forward, "There's a spare and secure storage area just in the next room through the hallway. I'll lead the way."

Lammet nodded his agreement and Marcus hoisted the dead alien over his shoulder again, the marines and Inkerman flinching out of reflex and skulking away as he followed the sergeant.

"Hey, what's your name anyway?" Marcus quizzed.

"Sergeant Ali-Saad. My nickname is Slick. I been in the service for 'bout 6 years. I gotta tell you, man. First time I've ever seen one of those suckers for real."

Marcus chose not to mention it was the first time for him too. All previous contact he ever had with xenomorphs were via hologram training exercises and presentations.

Slick led Marcus down a steel walled corridor, stopping only a short distance down the way as Mary, Lammet, Inkerman and the other marines followed behind. The geologists were still unpacking their equipment on the buggies back in the garage. Slick stopped at a steel doorway, black and yellow striped stickers lined the outline of the door with a plaque in the centre displaying a prominent biohazard symbol. He swiped an access card through a card reader as he led Marcus inside through a pair of doors, much like an airlock.

"Don't mind the biohazard sticker on the door. The room's air sealed and can contain toxic material safely. No one is authorized to get into this room besides myself, Director Lammet, Director Inkerman and Research Chief Morton."

"Good." Marcus mumbled as he laid the xenomorph down on the concrete floor.

Marcus turned to leave, but Slick couldn't help but stare down at it. He couldn't stop marveling at how one of the most dangerous creatures in the universe was laying dead before him in a storage room, looking like it was sleeping. A bead of sweat gathered and rolled down the side of his forehead as he absently imagined it suddenly waking up…

He jolted awake as Marcus roughly laid his hand on his shoulder. "Let's go Slick. Time to debrief."

"Y-Yes,sir." He stammered and turned for the door, eager to get out. He felt hot and claustrophobic all of a sudden, but the cool air of the decontamination air conditioners blowing down made him feel better, relieved.

As they stepped back out into the hallway, Lammet and Inkerman stood to the side, waiting for him, Mary at ease on the other side.

Lammet looked to Slick first, "Saad, round up the marines and the team in the garage and escort them to Meeting Room 1. Marcus, Mary, follow us please. We need to debrief."

"Yes, sir." Slick, Marcus and Mary replied altogether, standing to attention.

Lammet and Inkerman headed for the main door out into the central hallway, the ghost agents following in behind as Slick went off to get everyone together.

It was an unnerving walk down the relatively crowded hallway as the civilian personnel eyed them suspiciously, sensing something important had happened. They simply stood and stared, stopping whatever they were doing or talking to and watching them. Two of the most important people at the station followed by mysterious and unnerving super soldiers.

Finally, Inkerman turned to a door and opened it, leading everyone inside. It was the meeting room in which Marcus and Mary had originally met Lammet and Inkerman when they arrived yesterday. As before, Lammet frosted up the window out into the hallway, cutting away the view inside from the suspicious civilians outside. They all sat down, the ghost agents again leaning their rifles against the wall and waited patiently and in silence as Slick, the marines and Xiao and his team filed in, finding room where they could in the room. It was a little cramped, but Lammet didn't care.

The last marine stepped in and closed the door behind him.

After waiting a moment for everyone to find a spot to sit or stand, Lammet started off, "Right, well it's been confirmed. A xenomorph presence is on this planet. This changes matters greatly." He turned to Marcus, "Can you please outline exactly what happened?"

Marcus turned and looked to Mary, who explained. "We pulled up at the first site. We formed a circular perimeter around the convoy and manned watch until the scan was complete. Xiao indicated to us when it was and we then packed up and proceeded to the second site where we again formed a perimeter and stood guard. I saw movement in the distance and went to investigate. I then spotted the xenomorph as it blipped on our motion tracker and I took it out with two sniper shots to the upper chest. That was it. Just one drone out on its own, probably a scout. Marcus then loaded it onto the back of the buggy and we headed right back after Xiao finished his second scan."

Lammet nodded appreciatively, "Fine work. Many thanks." He smiled, comparing the solid and efficient work of the ghost agents to his, in his mind, inexperienced and useless marine crew. "Well then. There are two issues we must consider. The first, as I see it, is to gather further intel about the xenomorph presence. We only have one confirmed sighting being the dead one now lying in the storage room." He looked to the ghost agents, "Would you agree we need to confirm if more are around?"

They both nodded together, Marcus spoke up to elaborate. "As Mary alluded to before, it is likely the xenomorph we took down this morning was a scout. It's typical of xenomorph behaviour to have scouts roam the landscape and report back food sources or potential hosts, or for them to act individually and bring it back to the hive. On that basis, I would recommend that we further explore the planet to ascertain whether a hive exists, or for that matter whether multiple hives exist somewhere, and then make a call as to how best handle the situation from there."

Lammet nodded and was about to speak, but was cut short by a man in a white set of overalls, a driller from Xiao's team. "Hang on. You said there's the possibility there might be hives. With an 's'. These things… I've heard they're extremely dangerous! We should get off this planet and call in the army!"

Lammet raised his hand to stop anyone butting in and yelling and he calmly spoke. "Ahab, Dead Eye, how would you reply to that?"

Marcus continued on, the entire room listening intently, so he knew he had to choose his words carefully. "I don't think that would be necessary at this point. Given the contact we have had so far, there is not the risk of a full scale swarm of aliens bearing down on this facility. We've taken out a scout. They don't know what's happened and they don't know where we are. I think the most prudent form of action to take would be to suspend geological surveys or any other outside activity once the severity of the situation has been confirmed. After all, for all we know, whatever hive may exist could be a very small one, especially given there's no life here.

We need to know more before we can fully consider a further course of action without jeopardizing this facility. My colleague and I will be able to handle any reconnaissance. The marine detachment can stay here to guard the base and provide reassurance."

Lammet relaxed in his chair slightly as he saw everyone accept the answer. It sounded very reasonable even if everyone didn't like the situation. "Well, Ahab, you've dabbled into what I think is the second point of discussion. How do we best handle this situation in the context of our operations here and avoiding a panic?"

Inkerman leaned forward and spoke up. "I think Ahab's answered much of that question. According to his advice, we should suspend operations here until more is known. As for handling the wider population, we can't keep this to ourselves. Everyone is suspicious. I think the situation would be best handled by calling a meeting and running through the plan to ensure fearful gossip doesn't start a panic or rash actions."

Xiao unfolded his arms and spoke up, "I agree. As a civilian, I feel it would counter-productive and inappropriate to try and hide this issue. Gossip can spread quickly here and I agree it would be better to fully inform them of the situation and emphasise that the threat is currently assessed as relatively low and, should the situation worsen, other options, such as evacuation, are available."

Lammet was surprised by the meeting. He expected it to go worse. "Alright then. Sounds like we're in agreement. We will call an all personnel station meeting this afternoon. I would request that everyone in this room avoid talking about the incident until then. Now, unless anyone has any concerns or any questions, this debrief is over."

No one moved, they just either stared at the floor or at Lammet.

"Right, then. Dismissed."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The mood had lifted slightly after the debrief as Marcus and Mary went back to their ship to retrieve some equipment. Besides their standard equipment, they had some toys that would help.

Mary sat in the kitchen as Marcus retrieved a cup of coffee for each of them the coffee boiler. She stretched her arms up over her head as she eyed him, watching him sit down across the table from her.

"Well, that's my first xeno. I got one." She smiled playfully.

Marcus smiled back as he set her cup of coffee on the table and slid it across to her, the steam wafting up gracefully in the still air. "I'm chivalrous, remember? Ladies first."

Mary grunted in amusement, "I'm no lady. You should know that by now."

"Yeah, I forgot about that." He mumbled as he cupped his lips and sipped his hot coffee carefully.

She also sipped her coffee and cupped her hands around the mug as she straightened her posture in her chair. 'So, what are you thinking? We grab one of those buggies and look around?"

Marcus swallowed, the drink slightly burning his throat, strangely comforting, as he nodded. "Yeah, all of the incidents so far have been out in that same direction we went this morning. There's definitely a hive out there. We can sweep sections of ground and use flyers to look around."

Flyers were hovering remote controlled robot drones about the size and shape of a plate. They hovered using a rotor that spun within a triangular frame and were mounted with a video camera. They were a good way of having a look around without endangering anybody.

Mary nodded, "Yeah, sounds good to me."

Marcus started giggling.

"What?" Mary asked, smirking.

"I just realized. On my way to the meeting for this mission back home, I passed Alexis in the hallway."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, you know what I said to him?"

"What?"

"Looks like I'm going to get my cherry popped this mission."

Mary started chuckling and had to set her coffee mug back down on the table to stop it from spilling. "Huh, more like I got _my_ cherry popped, babe."

"Pop goes the weasel."

"Hey!" she half yelled at him playfully. "You're a prick you know that?"

Marcus flashed her an overly cheesy smile, "I know you love me."

"I have my limits." She remarked.

"Oooooooh."

She cocked her head and regarded him, still smirking. "Oh little man, you don't want to make me angry."

"Hey! Little?" he complained.

"Yeah! Mini Marcus! Nyah nyah!"

Marcus turned away from her playfully, pretending to ignore her. "Oh you hurt my feelings. No sex for you now."

Surprised at the joke, she flicked her hair and ran her finger around and along the outline of her body, hugging the curves through her ghost suit. "Oh babe. We both know you can't resist me…."

Marcus couldn't help but watch from the corner of his eye, "Nope, you're gonna have to do better than that." His chin in the air, smirking.

Mary was really turning it one as she teasingly ran her hands over the outline of her breasts and started play moaning, pretending to approach an orgasm, pouting her lips like a pornstar.

Marcus couldn't help but turn to look.

She abruptly stopped, a beaming smile on her face as a strand of her black hair snaked across her nose and cheeks. "See?"

"You're bad, you know that?"

She winked at him, "Babe, after we finish up today, I'll show you bad……"

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lammet and Inkerman had hooked up a burst transmission conference call with Earth home office who agreed with the plan, but outlined that only a week would be allowed to ascertain the threat or else matters would be taken out of their hands.

Although the condition sounded like a threat and seemed hostile, Lammet was reassured by Mary that a week would be enough time.

Later, the meeting called in the lecture theatre also proceeded relatively smoothly. There were hardly any outbursts when Lammet ran through the entire plan with them. Everyone seemed to agree and there were only some slight murmurs of disagreement when they outlined that evacuation would not need to occur yet.

Mary arranged the marines to stand guard around the complex, guarding key points and keeping watch from certain vantage points. A radar was manned in the Comms room to detect any unauthorized activity long before it would be seen by the marines outside.

Meanwhile, Marcus packed their equipment, including the flyers, into a buggy with appropriate rations and water and ammunition.

First thing the next morning, they both hopped into the buggy, Marcus driving and Mary scanning the horizon from the open back seat, standing up through the open roof, her sniper rifle resting on a cross bar in front of her.

It took an hour of solid driving, but they finally arrived at the original site from the previous day where Mary had shot down the xenomorph. They both got out and walked over to where the xenomorph had originally collapsed in the dirt, dead.

They both tightened their grip on their rifles when they saw multiple tracks scattered around the scuffled dirt.

Other xenomorphs, more than one, had been here.

They both scanned the markings in the dirt, following them, the tracks circling around the site and leading off into the distance.

Marcus and Mary got back into the buggy, not needing to say anything just exchanging a knowing nod between them, as they followed the tracks.


	7. Seen the Light

**Chapter 7: Seen the light**

Marcus drove slowly, scanning the ground carefully as he followed the tracks and markings in the dirt. Thankfully there were only a few rocks and boulders to block the way, which were easy to drive around.

Mary stood in the back of the buggy, keeping a look out for threats as it trundled along slowly.

Both of them eyed their motion trackers, Mary grabbing her gun and placing her finger on the trigger as a white dot showed up on screen in her mask HUD. Marcus parked the buggy on the top of a small crest, leaving the engine running.

The tracker indicated a signal 200 metres just a little left of dead ahead, right on the edge of the tracker's range. A single lone dot, fixed and unmoving. Mary peered down her scope looking for the target.

Marcus sat silent, letting her concentrate.

"Can't see it." She said. "Stand by."

"OK." He replied, letting his fingers rest on the steering wheel, the vibrations of the engine tingling through his fingertips.

They waited for almost two full minutes, patiently and ready before the signal moved and was joined by five others very quickly, gathered around it in a small group.

"I got 6 signals in total, moving this way." Mary announced, still looking down her scope trying to find them in the rocky and hilly landscape before them.

"Copy." Marcus replied as he stepped out of the buggy onto the dirt and grabbed his pulse rifle, scanning the landscape with her over the buggy's bonnet.

They waited patiently, watching the 6 dots close in very slowly, clumped together, between 180 and 190 metres away ahead of them.

"I see one. Poking its head around a boulder. I can't see the others yet." Mary kept her breathing calm and did not rush a shot off. She wanted them all out in the open.

"Copy." Marcus calmly stood behind the buggy, the gun relaxed in his hands across his chest, trusting her judgement.

"It's gone back behind the boul--- here they come! Standby!" She still maintained her calm breathing, keeping her hands steady as she saw the xenomorphs tearing down the dirt, running on all fours towards them through her scope. "They've split into groups of three, diverging left and right. Stand by. I got them."

Marcus's reply was drowned out by the sharp and muted pop of Mary rifle firing off three rounds, about one second passing between each shot as she lined them up and fired, taking out the group on the left which had run out into the open with clean headshots. "Three xenos down, group of three heading towards us, hiding behind boulders. Get ready."

Marcus brought his rifle up in front of him as he saw dark figures dart and fly between large boulders in the near distance. He flicked the safety off and up to semi-auto.

Mary tried to anticipate their run between boulders and jags of rock and fired measured shots at them, missing once and landing two successful shots to the head and stomach of two of the three aliens, flooring them into the dirt. "Two down! Heads up!"

Marcus could hear the alien screeching and quickly held his breath and looked for a bead as it ducked behind another boulder only 20 metres away, running fast towards them. The xenomorph jumped out into plain view as the boulders stopped and Marcus train across it in his sights, lining it up coldly and steadily.

His forearms tensing, cradling the rifle in his hands and shoulder, he tracked slightly ahead of the xenomorph as it darted to the side, heading for a small rock and fired a three round burst, connecting squarely in the chest and sending it snapping back into the dirt violently like it had been hit by a train.

"Clear!" He said loudly, his stance still ready and alert.

Looking down her scope, she tracked back along where they came and saw movement "Standby! One's not dead yet." The second of the right group she had shot once in the stomach was scrambling away from them, weakly. She quickly brought her crosshairs over the alien's head and fired, it's neck snapping open and forward, nearly decapitating it.

"Clear!" she yelled, eyeing her empty motion tracker radar.

"Clear!" Marcus yelled back and they both eased up and relaxed.

Mary smiled at him through her mask, "6 for me, only 1 for you."

Marcus parked his rifle back into the buggy and climbed into the driver's seat. "Yeah, only one for me. There's goes my cherry."

"Yeah, you're a man now, apparently."

Marcus turned and regarded her, "Apparently, huh?" He shook his head at the joke, before turning serious. "We're getting close. I don't see a hive. There must be a cave."

Mary rested a hand on her rifle's sight, looking into the distance. "Yeah, I think so too."

Marcus eased the buggy out and to the left, staying out in the open as they passed the boulders on their right and the corpses of the six aliens laying still in the dirt further away, half hidden.

Marcus again drove slowly, heading in the direction the dead aliens had come from, more or less straight ahead. Mary watched and scanned the landscape intently, wary of the more and more numerous boulders and jutting shafts of rock that stabbed up into the pale sky.

"Pull up." she said sharply and Marcus eased on the brakes, quickly pulling the slowly moving buggy to a stop. "I see a cave entrance." She pointed out to the right of the buggy, looking down her scope. "About 300 or so metres away, there's an abrupt and steep hole in a cliff side at about 2 o'clock. Pretty big."

Marcus grabbed the buggy's A pillar above him and swung himself around onto his feet, standing on the driver's seat, Mary just behind him. He reached into a shoulder pouch and pulled out a small set of binoculars. It didn't take him long to see it too. "Yeah, let's get a flyer out and have a look see."

"Copy." She replied, eyeing the cave down her sniper sights.

Marcus bent down and reached for a small briefcase. He pulled it up and laid it down in the buggy's taught cloth and steel canopy. He snapped the latches across and opened the case to reveal the small flyer, lying inactive in a foam mould and a small controller, similar to a mini-RC controller, inset in the foam next to it. He pulled the flyer and the remote out, closed the case and handed the flyer to Mary who held it out straight and level in the air by the frame.

Marcus pressed a small button on the flyer and remote, switching them both on. Next he pressed another small button on the remote and the flyer's rotor started to spin rapidly and waver in Mary's hand, who promptly let go carefully.

The flyer simply hovered in the air before them, as though suspended by an invisible wire, the spinning rotor an invisible blur and silent.

"Link up." Marcus mumbled and they both reached up and pressing a small panel on their masks, just behind their right ears. Suddenly, a small screen appeared on the HUD in their masks, vision of Marcus looking back at them.

"Mine's working." Mary confirmed.

"Same. Let's go." Marcus rested his thumb on a small joystick nodule on the remote and resting his finger in a small trigger like button on the back of the remote. He pressed right on the remote, causing the little robot to rotate right until it faced the cave in the distance. He then pressed up on the nodule and the flyer slowly zoomed out and away from them, towards the cave. He pressed up harder and the flyer sped up, flying along quite fast.

Eyeing the small video feed on the HUD, Marcus eventually guided the flyer up to the cave entrance and inside. The feed died to black quickly before it glowed green, indicating infra-red vision. The feed was still quite clear and they could see the cave snake down further, the walls very smooth and relatively straight.

"Morton was right, I think." Marcus said. "There must have been water on this planet to make for cave walls that smooth."

"Yeah, s'pose you're right." Mary responded as she watched the mouth of the cave down her scope and the flyer video feed and motion tracker radar sweeps on her HUD at the same time.

Concentrating, Marcus guided the flyer further down into the cave, the incline dropped quite sharply and he pressed down on the nodule to command the flyer to float down. Suddenly, something they both recognized came into view on a cave wall.

Alien resin. It looked like a tendril of some sort, snaking along the rock wall until the view of rock stopped and the wall was covered in resin. Marcus rotated the flyer around and they could see xenomorph resin covering the cave on all sides. It was everywhere. He turned the flyer to look straight again when something strange happened.

The video feed, before quite dark and shaded dark green, started lighting up as though someone was shining a torch or something up the cave towards them. The feed was a little grainy and difficult to make out, but something flashed on the screen and it went dead white and then cut to static in the blink of an eye.

Marcus was stunned, "What was that?"

Mary was equally dumbfounded, "I dunno. That was a light source."

Marcus relaxed his grip on the remote, the static obviously indicating the flyer had been disable or smashed by something. "Yeah I know. What could it have been? A survivor?"

Mary continued looking down her scope, eying the cave entrance suspiciously, "I doubt it. That light source moved. It's not like it was a cocooned researcher hung on a wall with a jacket light or torch. It moved. Something besides xenomorphs is alive down there."

Marcus opened the briefcase and set the remote back into the foam mould. "Let's get back to base and review the video feed. We need to have a good look at that video." The video feed was automatically saved into a memory chip in their masks. They would have to download it onto a computer, preferably one with a big screen.

Wary and concerned, Marcus climbed back down into his driver's seat and eased down on the accelerator, U-turning the buggy around, heading back to base. Despite talking over the incident and repaying the feed on the HUD's, they reached the conclusion they had no idea what just happened.

They arrived safely back to base less than an hour later, parking the buggy in the garage where Lammet was waiting for them.

"Find anything?" he asked, his arms folded in front of him, nervously.

"Sort of." Marcus answered back, a confused frown forming across Lammet's face.

Later in Lammet's office, they managed to download the feed onto his computer. They picked his computer because, him being a senior member of staff, had a large high-definition monitor. "Good for games." He joked.

They replayed the video, watching patiently right from the start, back at the buggy, watching intently right up until they could see the resin on the cave walls.

As they saw the flashes of white, Marcus paused the video and inched it along frame by frame. One particular frame caused them all to gasp.

One of the frames just before the feed was lost was of a xenomorph's face, it's mouth open and it's inner jaws about to snap into the camera. A menacing sight.

But that's not what caused Marcus and Mary to gasp. It was the fact that the alien's figure was glowing white.

The light was coming from the alien itself.


	8. Politics and Regulations

**Chapter 8: Politics and Regulations**

Stunned, they stared at the screen, the stilled video picture of the glowing white alien about to destroy the camera had them transfixed.

Mary spoke first to break the stunned silence. "Hang on. I am seeing this right? Is that alien glowing?"

Marcus' brow furrowed, trying to discern a reasonable answer. "I think so. I mean, that's infra-red vision, so for the alien to be that white on the screen means that it is emitting light of some sort."

"This is really strange." Mary folded her arms, staring at the screen.

"Hang on." Marcus stood bolt upright. "Let's check that dead alien in storage."

Lammet just sat in his chair staring at the screen, scared stiff by the sight. He couldn't even hear Marcus talking to him until his hand gripping his shoulder tightly woke him out of his trance. "Huh? What?" he mumbled, confused.

"Sir, we need to go have a look at the dead alien in storage. I want to check something." Marcus spoke clearly and slowly to the still confused and stunned Lammet.

"Uh… right…. Uh… yeah" his face was a light shade of pale white. Marcus laid his hand gently on his shoulder blade and guided him up out of his chair and towards the door. The people walking by outside eyed the group as they emerged from his office, in particular, they could see Lammet was disturbed and uncomfortable about something.

Marcus continued to guide Lammet along until he seemed to gather himself and step more solidly. After a quick walk, they reached the garage wing and they were alone in the small corridor that snaked down to the storage rooms and the garage further down.

Lammet fumbled for his access card and, somehow, cleanly swiped his card through without dropping it and the door slowly swung open automatically. Marcus and Mary eyed Lammet as he leaned against the wall outside as they stepped in.

Silent and a little nervous, the stepped through the airlock doors and were somewhat relieved to see the dead alien was still lying on the floor inside, in exactly the same position as yesterday.

"Alright…. Let's see." Mary turned and looked for the light switch behind her next to the airlock doorway and flicked it off, plunging the air tight room into complete darkness.

Mary heard Marcus gasp as her eyes adjusted. It wasn't completely dark in the room. She looked down and saw the outline and features of the dead alien before them glowing a soft very pale blue in the darkness. It was the only thing they could see.

She marvelled as she saw the elongated head, the ridges along its body, even its tail, all glowing softly. It was a very peculiar and uncomfortable sight. In Mary's mind, she was strangely reminded that it looked like a night light, but scoffed at the idea giving how uncomfortable she felt looking down at it.

She looked to her left where she knew Marcus was standing as he spoke slowly. "Mary, this is a very big deal. This is new. I've never heard of this before."

"Yeah, the only varieties that anyone's ever come across is just the design of the ridges on a xeno's body. Smoothed head or ridged head, that sort of thing. Nothing like this." She dumbly blinked in the soft darkness. She could slowly make out the features of the room as her eyes adjusted to the soft glow.

Mary felt instantly relieved as she felt Marcus take her hand in his. "This mission has changed. We need to call in home base. We need to talk to Mustapha. See what he says." Ash-hali Mustapha was a contact that PROS often liaised with, a scientist recognised as one of the foremost authorities in xenomorph biology.

"I agree. I'm turning the light back on." They both closed their eyes and then squinted as the light globe above snapped back on, engulfing the room in white light again. The alien lying before them just like it was before.

"We need to get this thing put on ice. This is a valuable specimen." Mary said, the gravity of the situation and the worth of the discovery sinking in.

"Yeah." Marcus obviously agreed and was think the same thing. "Let's get on the phone, right now." Without hesitating, they both turned and headed back outside where Lammet was still leaning against the wall, staring at the floor, apparently deep in thought.

He looked up as they stepped out before him, "What is it? What's going on?" The serious looks on Mary and Marcus' faces made him very uncomfortable.

"Sir, you need to arrange for the dead alien in there to be put in cryo-storage. Put it on ice." Marcus stated coldly.

"Huh? Why?"

Mary answered him. "The aliens on this planet glow in the dark. This is an important scientific find. We need to get it in storage and we need to have a call with our superiors."

Lammet stood upright, seemingly glad to be told what to do, "Right. Uh… I'll arrange things."

Marcus continued, "We should have Morton, Inkerman and yourself on the call, sir. I've got a hunch the crystals you've discovered here might have something to do with this."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

True to his word, Lammet organised for the marines to, reluctantly, wrap the xenomorph body and put it into ice storage. The air was ominous in the meeting room as Lammet, Inkerman and Morton sat down across the table from Mary and Marcus as they dialled in and waited for the link up.

After a two minute wait, they were greeted by Harry Waterman, CEO of PROS. "Hello?"

Marcus did the talking, "Sir, this is junior ghost agent Stanford here on LV-943. I'm here with fellow agent Blazich and representatives of the Develin Exploration research facility here."

Waterman was quick to reply, "I'm assuming something's happened for you to call me?"

Mary bit her lip excitedly as Marcus replied. "Yes, sir. We need to have a conference call with yourself and Mustapha. We've encountered a species of xenomorph we think is new. These ones appear to live underground and glow in the dark."

The line was quiet for a moment before he replied, "Glow in the dark? Have you evidence of this?"

"Yes, sir. We have a dead alien Mary snipered just now having been put on ice. We sent a flyer into an infested cave and got file footage of an alien attacking it in infra-red vision. The alien was clearly visible glowing white in the footage. We conducted a crude test of the dead alien we have. It had been lying under a light all day, and when we turned the light off, it glowed in the darkness right before us." Marcus licked his dry lips as he waited for Waterman to reply.

"Right, I see. As far as I am aware, you are correct that this would be a new characteristic, Hang on, I'll get Cheryl to dial Mustapha in." The line clicked and some soft jazz hold music started playing. Everyone simply stared as the small speaker on the steel table, no one moved, no one spoke.

After a couple of minutes, the music stopped and Waterman spoke again. "Mustapha, you there?"

"Yes, I'm here." His voiced was quite sharp over the line. "What's going on? Henry said you guys have found a glow in the dark xenomorph."

Marcus leaned over the microphone, his arms folded beneath him, lying on the table. "That's right, sir."

Waterman butted in. "Who's with you exactly?"

Marcus answered, "Gordon Lammet, head of security. Bret Inkerman, head of operations and Henry Morton, chief research officer. They're running a research station here on LV-943 into a new type of energy storing crystal they've found in the rock here."

"OK." Waterman replied. "Mustapha, go ahead."

"What happened exactly?" he asked.

Marcus relayed the events that occurred since they landed, giving the background of the mission and talking through right up to the experiment they did in the storage when the dead alien glowed before them. "The alien's been put on ice here, sir." He finished.

Mustapha's excitement was obvious, "This is not a variety anyone's ever heard of. This is a big discovery. Waterman, we need to send a team in and get live specimens."

Inkerman butted into the conversation. "Wait wait, hold up here. I'm Bret Inkerman, director of operations. I think everyone needs to take a breath. We already have an operation here, funded by Develin Exploration in partnership with Morris Datalabs. You would need to liaise with our head office before anyone decides to do anything. I'm sure they would stake a claim of ownership over these things."

Waterman replied coolly, "I understand what you are saying, Mr Inkerman. There would be a complex question over ownership over these specimens. However, these xenomorphs are an extremely important scientific discovery. A team would need to be sent over ASAP to collect specimens, never mind secure your facility. Marcus, did you say there's only one hive?"

"Only one that we know about so far, but we can't say for certain. We haven't nearly explored this planet properly, so there's a distinct possibility that there could be more." He replied.

Waterman's voice seemed to carry more authority over the speaker. "Well in that case, the security of the facility there, I presume, would be under threat and severely compromised for the time being. Colony safety regulations would dictate that you must evacuate your facility in this scenario and await a quarantine clearance before you could operate again. I would be happy to be a part of a conference call with representatives from your head offices to outline their obligations."

Inkerman decided to push his point, "But Develin essentially owns this planet, it would be for them to decide what to do and how best to handle this situation."

Waterman kept himself calm and reassuring, but firm, "That's not quite true. The quarantine regulations for xenomorph infestation quite clearly require a facility, irrelevant of who owns it, to evacuate in this scenario and await a military response and clearance before they can even touch anything again. Any lawyer should tell you the same thing."

Lammet leaned forward and spoke before Inkerman had a chance to get angry. "Henry, I'm Gordon Lammet, what would you propose should happen next exactly?"

"As a research station, you would need to have a life pod or space craft of some sort that can get your population into orbit safely. I'm assuming you have one?"

"Yes, we've got six pods that can send our population into orbit and maintain us there for at least 2 weeks safely. Standard evacuation boats." Lammet replied.

Waterman continued, "Well then. You must at the very least do that, effective immediately. As I said, I would be happy to outline the situation to your superiors, who should be fully aware of the regulations anyway. It should be in a procedures manual with you as well."

"Right." Lammet replied simply.

"We will then be able to co-ordinate for a rescue and recovery team to be sent out, along with a xenomorph capture squad to quarantine the planet and do what they need to do. That operation would fall under the jurisdiction of the Colonial administration, namely, the Colonial Military. Marcus, I wouldn't be surprised if they contract out Zeta and Alpha squads to help."

"We already have a Colonial military detachment out here with us. A squad of 12. Would they be required to stay here?" Lammet asked slightly nervous.

"That's up to you." Waterman replied. "I would personally recommend that you evacuate your entire population, inclusive of your marine detachment until further help arrives. Marcus and Mary can remain behind to guard the facility if you wish or provide a caretaker role." Even in this situation, Waterman was manoeuvring to get the most chargeable time from Mary and Marcus that he could. Their charge out rate in active guard duty would be much higher than if they evacuated as well and waited in orbit.

"Sounds good to me." Lammet replied. He was unaware of Waterman smirking behind his desk back on Earth.

Mustapha butted back into the call, "Marcus, you said something about energy absorbing crystals before. What do you mean exactly?"

Marcus looked at Henry Morton, the research officer to answer that question, who leaned forward to speak, idly fiddling with his bow-tie. "I'm Henry Morton, Chief Research Officer. The crystals he mentioned before are embedded in the rock of this planet. When charged with an electrical current, they absorb the charge like a battery. They're made of some sort of iso-creta-methane compound, we are still analysing our samples. They're really quite remarkable, they-"

Mustapha interrupted him, "Sorry to interrupt, you say they're absorbing electricity, these crystals?"

"Yes."

"Are any of these crystals carrying a natural electrical charge in the ground already? I mean, would there be crystals in these cave systems that are naturally charged?" Mustapha asked curiously.

Morton waved his hand before him as he explained, "Yes they do. Only a minor amount. That's how we originally found them and discovered their properties. Those that did, typically, held anywhere from a 12 volt to a 27 volt charge. Enough to power a light bulb or a radio. But we've repeatedly charged crystals with enough power to run a computer or even the vending machine in the cafeteria."

Mustapha's voice was growing more excited. "I'm thinking this must have something to do with it. We know that xenomorphs can absorb some of the characteristics of their hosts and are very adaptable creatures. Maybe they're being affected in some way by radiation from these crystals in their cave hives. Maybe they're even eating them or something, I don't know, but I would be very curious to find out. This could be a massive find indeed."

Waterman's voice seemed to give some finality as he spoke, "Well Mustapha, you will most certainly be able to. We'll notify the Colonial Administration and get a recovery team out ASAP. Mr Lammet, Mr Inkerman? I assume you know what you need to do now. Do you have any further questions?"

"No." they both replied, Lammet seemingly happy, Inkerman less so.

"Marcus, Mary you will need to remain on standby on site until the recovery crew arrive. Make sure you have easy and quick means of evacuation should the situation require. Are you both comfortable doing that?"

"Yes, sir." They both replied sharply.

"Alright everyone. Good luck. Many thanks for the call." Waterman gave his goodbye as everyone else mumbled their farewells and Marcus hung up.

They stared at each other across the table for a moment, in dead silence before Mary spoke. "We'll need to call a town meeting and get things moving."

Lammet and Inkerman simply nodded, silent and stunned in their seats.


	9. WHile The Cat's Away

**Chapter 9: While the cat's away…..**

The research station was a flurry of activity and noise. The town meeting went along relatively smoothly given the upheaval that would be involved. The civilian population was given 1 hour to pack and everyone was quickly marshalled to the air pad were the life pods were located, tube-like vessels pointed up to the sky like rocket ships.

Marcus and Mary stood in the communications centre, officially the only people left behind as they watched the rockets burn up to the sky, Lammet and Inkerman above radioing back the successful orbit of all of the pods.

Waterman contacted the agents not long after and set up a conference call with a Colonial Administration representative and a representative from Develin Exploration, the owner of the facility.

The call proceeded relatively smoothly, Waterman and the Colonial rep both on the same wavelength, seemingly having a subtle verbal boxing match with the Develin rep, who insisted that Develin should have ownership of whatever is found and that their lawyers would be in contact soon.

Waterman confirmed that a full battalion was getting ready and would be about 6 days away. Zeta and Alpha squads from PROS had indeed been contracted to assist, Zeta squad being PROS' special capture and containment division armed with shock cannons, designed to stun and incapacitate xenomorphs for capture.

Mary and Marcus were ordered to guard the facility until they arrived.

A transport cruiser had been chartered and would reach orbit 2 days after the military arrived to dock the pods and take the civilians home.

Marcus felt a wave of excitement come over him as he pressed the hang up button on the speaker phone. The communications room was silent and empty. He turned to Mary who looked as though she had something on her mind.

"Six days alone, huh? No one around except for just you and little ol' me." She smiled devilishly.

Marcus smiled, an erection starting to rise in his crotch. "Hold your horses, you. We've got work to do first. We've gotta set up turrets and make sure all of the doors and hatches are closed and locked."

Mary smiled, "Better get to work then. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can play…." She rose, turning away from Marcus so he got a good look at her ass through her suit. She started heading for the doorway, Marcus slapped her ass, causing her to squeal as he stood up and walked in beside her.

They worked efficiently and thoroughly throughout the rest of the day. They headed back to their ship to get two automatic turrets that were packed in the arms storage room.

Given that the station was laid out as a giant cross, they decided the best places to deploy the turrets were right in the centre. That way, the turrets had a full and unhindered view down each of the north, east, south and western hallways. Each of the turrets were automatic and motion sensing, loaded with over 1,000 rounds of AXA ammunition each, and were free looking, able to rotate 360 degrees as well as almost completely up and down, almost a full sphere of free movement. Further, they were programmed to avoid shooting either of Mary of Marcus for obvious reasons.

The station also had a radar capability that could effectively act as a giant motion tracker, with a scan radius of over 10 kilometres, although it was a little patchy in areas given that the landscape was fairly rocky and broken up, blocking some of the radar waves.

As best they could, they locked or welded shut the main doors, the garage roller doors and as many of the various vents and windows they could find. Thankfully, many of the main windows had plated steel roller shutters, which were obviously then closed.

It was hard work, and it had continued well into the night, but they were satisfied the base was now about as secure as it could get. Marcus had finished already and Mary was still outside, just finishing up welding down a last plate of steel over a window opening.

"Hey babe. I'm just finishing up now. Where are you?" She said into her radio.

"I'm inside somewhere." Marcus replied, his voice smooth and sultry. "Come find me….. I've got something I think you'll like….."

"Oh really?... Is it what I think it is, baby?" She mused, brushing her hair back as she ran her welding torch over the last corner of the plate. Now done. She started heading for the main door.

"You'll see……" his voice purred into her earpiece.

She smiled, biting her lip playfully as she started to picture in her mind what he mind have in store for her, sending a tingle down her spine and between her legs. She stared down the main hallway, the door closing and locking behind her, the sound of metal clicking into place solidly the only sound now. She made no sound as she stealthily crept down the corridor, the turrets rotating around in their standard scan sweeps the only movement further down in the distance. The hallway was empty and bare, quite creepy.

She hesitated as she heard a sound, a clang of some sort, down and to the right somewhere. She broke out in a sprint, still making no noise as she rolled her feet flawlessly with every step and darted into the comms room where she though the sound had come from.

The doorway was open and she crept inside. The room looked empty, the two main rows of consoles and computer hummed away quietly, the various lights and diodes flashing as they normally do as the system sat on standby. Something caught her eye, all of the chairs were parked and facing into their desks except for one further up near the radar screen, which beeped rhythmically, detecting nothing. She jogged up to the desk and hesitated as she saw a piece of paper lying folded on the chair, facing her. She walked up, smirking, grabbed the paper and folded it open.

'First I'm gonna kiss you…..' it read.

Almost as soon as she read it, another noise echoed throughout the hallways behind her. Without missing a beat, she ran out into the main hallway. She heard the noise again and spun around. It sounded like it came from the garage.

She strolled casually down the hallway, taking her time until she heard Marcus' voice on the radio again, "If you're quick, you might actually catch me. Then I'll give you something extra special……"

"What might that be?" she asked playfully.

"A full body message, perhaps?" he responded into her radio.

Her eyes flashed at the prospect and she broke into a full blown run down towards the garage, running between the turrets scanning the hallways calmly, when she heard him again, "That's better….."

She saw an open doorway down towards the end of the corridor, near the locked main door at the end and darted down through it, grabbing the door's edge to help swing her around through the corner. She stopped in her tracks as she saw a piece of paper taped onto the wall in front of her.

"Then I'm gonna strip your suit off…." It read.

"Oh, are you now?" she said sarcastically into her mic.

"Yep, but you were too slow. You didn't catch me that time…….." she heard him in her earpiece again, followed by a noise. It sounded like a bite into an apple.

The kitchen!

Running as fast as she could, not caring about any noise she made, she dashed back down the main hallway, jumping over the turrets to the western wing, darting through a doorway into the cafeteria. The large hall was empty, the table and chairs arranged neatly, except for a few. No movement, nothing out of place except for an apple with a large bite out of it and a piece of paper lying on a table near her.

She snorted indignantly, playfully pissed off at being given the run around and so far, losing. Nevertheless, she walked up and read the note,

"Then I'm gonna run my hands all over your body…." It read.

"Huh. You're very sure of yourself aren't you?" she said into her radio.

"Yep." He answered back. "I'm getting some coffee, you want some?"

Confused for a moment, she then broke into a run, heading for the landing pad, for their ship. The coffee boiler in the ship's little kitchen.

Darting back out into the western hallway, she ran down and headed south to the landing pad, the large door at the end opening for her before she even got halfway there. Sprinting at full pelt, the cargo ramp of the ship opened and touched the ground just as she reached it and jumped inside, scrambling through the cramped corridors and stopping in the little kitchen. A paid of handcuffs and a note laying on the little table by the doorway.

"Bring these…." It said.

She smiled, placing her hands on her hips as she caught her breath, cocking her head to the side a she reached over and grabbed the cuffs.

"_Where_ did you get these?" she spoke into the air.

"Not telling babe….." his voice teasing wafted into her ear through her earpiece again. "Last chance…… 43."

43?

That was the number of the room they were given as private quarters back in the station.

She darted back again, zig-zagging through the cramped ship and back out onto the landing pad and through the now closing main doors for the southern wing, just zooming through before they shut behind her. Their quarters were in the northern wing, straight ahead of her. Running hard again, she clear jumped the turrets in the centre and soon reached the closed doorway for their quarters.

She pressed the open button next to the door and steeled herself for what 'horrors' may be inside, still wondering what Marcus had in store for her. He must be inside, she decided.

As the door opened, she was both relieved and startled to see him standing before her, naked except for a towel wrapped around his waist. He was simply staring back at her, his arms folded across his chest.

She broke out in a giggle as he smiled back to her, "Well, you took your damn time." He teased.

She confidently stepped forward, pretending to be angry, pointing at him, wiggling her finger in his face. He didn't flinch. "How dare you?" She half yelled. She could help but smile back. Her act broken, she moved to hug him. "How dare you make me work for it like that…… I'm all horny and what do you make me do? Run my ass off."

Marcus reached around and laid his left hand on her buttock through her suit, squeezing slightly, "Uh uh. It's still there…." as he ran his hand back up her side to her shoulder.

Mary bit her lip as she pulled the pin for her hair, letting it fall out freely. "I have a problem, baby." Leaning up so her lips were almost touching his.

"What's that?" he breathed, his breath hot against her cheeks.

"I'm all hot and bothered…… Can you help me?" Her lips teasingly grazed against his.

He reached his hand on her shoulder around to the back of her neck, finding a small zipper. He slowly pulled it down, exposing her back to the open air. "I've got something for you….. Let's get this off first…….. Turn around."

Obeying, she turned and stood still as he continued to peel the zip down, the back of her suit folding open. The zipper stopped at her waist. He reached up and grabbed the shoulders of the suit, peeling it off slowly down her arms and over her hands, leaving her exposed except for a sports bra.

She breathed heavily through her nose, the cool air felt nice, icy cold, against her hot skin, her nipples hardening with anticipation. She didn't move.

Marcus crouched down, looking for the zippers running down the sides of the suit's legs, finding them easily and started peeling them down too, slowly. The suit slackened and loosened as the zips opened further, down to her ankles and popping open at the end.

He grabbed the open legs of the suit and Mary stepped forward, out of the leggings, leaving her in her underwear, her panties a very thin G-string/thong.

He stood up and reached for the clip of her bra on her back. He fiddled it open and ran his hands around her back and over her shoulders, the bra straps slackened and loose. Mary leaned forward slightly as the bra fell to the floor.

He kissed the nape of her neck, reaching for her bare breasts as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, moaning softly. He laid both his hands on her breasts from behind, massaging them and flicking her nipples softly, her body leaning back on him, squirming and writhing slowly.

"Mmmm, baby." She whimpered, letting him work her over like she was soft clay.

Suddenly, he threw her over to the side, sending her landing on her hands and knees onto the bed next to them violently, her bum standing up in the air towards him, her hair in disarray, covering her face. "Mmmmm….. what are you gonna do to me baby?" she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Still wearing his towel, he stepped over and kneeled onto the bed behind her, the erection beneath his towel poking into her crotch as she angled her bum up into him, softly grinding.

In a swift move, he leaned over the top of her, grabbed her arms and thrust them forwards to the head of the bed, getting a surprised yelp from Mary as the hand cuffs snapping closed around her wrists, the chain looped around the steel pole above the pillow.

She purred when she realised what he had done, her hands bound.

Trapped.

At his mercy.

"Oh baby. You're naughty. You got me now. I can't escape….. master." She writhed, pouring on the sex talk, stroking his ego.

Marcus leaned back upright, kneeling behind her, taking in the sight of her bum and crotch up in the air before him. He grabbed the waist of her thong and slowly peeled it down, exposing her vagina and ass wavering before him. He continued to pull the thong down and past her legs and ankles, and off her completely as it hung limp in his hand. He pulled the towel off him as he let the underwear drop to the floor beside him. His penis hard and pulsing, brushing her buttocks.

"I got something for you…." he teased, rubbing it slowly.

"Give it to me." She panted, she was getting impatient. He loved it when she begged for it.

"You've gotta make me want it." he teased, letting the head of his penis brush against the lips of her sodden vagina.

"Oh fuck. Please….. I'm begging you…. Is that what you want? Please master……" She was aching for it. Her ass writhing in front of him, she was trying to push her crotch back into him, trying to get him inside her

Surprising her, he obliged suddenly, slipping inside with ease, making her gasp with pleasure as he pushed himself all the way in.

Slowly, he started moving in and out, looking down at the sight of him half inside her, his hand resting on her buttock, feeling her tight vagina, relaxing slowly, gripping down on his shaft.

Taking his time, he let her get 'angry' as she started to buck back and forth on him, getting rougher and wiggling her behind around to grind back on him. Sensing she was getting hot, he suddenly grabbed her by the hips and started ramming her, fucking hard and fast, causing her to gasp and moan loudly, before he suddenly slowed down again.

"Goddamn it! Don't fucking stop, _please_!!" She begged and shouted.

Obliging again, he gripped her hips again and started pummelling, her buttocks bouncing and rippling as she slapped back against his lap. The bed squeaked as Marcus grunted and she moaned, her hair flicking around violently, enjoying it immensely, screaming with ecstasy.

She had been waiting for it all day.


	10. Attack

**Chapter 10: Attack**

5 days had passed since the evacuation and Mary and Marcus were left behind to guard and monitor the facility. In that 5 days, there had been lots of sex and not a blip on the station's radar.

They were enjoying themselves.

Lying in bed, naked and comfortable, they were relaxing after another bout of sex in their quarters. He hugged her tightly.

"I'm looking forward to when we get back." He murmured in her ear.

"I'm looking forward to getting back and the both of us getting some time off." She whispered back, cooing as he softly ran his fingertips over and around her breasts, the bed sheets not quite covering them.

"Mmmmm, y'know I need to actually ask you out for a first date." He said, smirking.

She giggled lightly, "Yeah! I want my first date steak!" she teased.

"Do you fuck on a first date?" He said, pinching her nipples softly.

"Watch it, honey, or I'll start calling you Mini-Marcus again and spread unflattering rumours about you."

"Yeah, right. I know you can't resist me….. I am the meat in your sandwich."

She frowned and smiled at the bad joke, and slapped him loudly on his bare thigh. "Hey! Behave! Anyway, where are you gonna take me for our first date? You've got some making up to do, now. It better be good."

"Well, there's a nice-"

Both of them flinched and sat bolt upright as the emergency siren suddenly blared loudly all around them, engulfing their ears with an awful wail. They looked at each other, their instincts and training kicking in as they gathered themselves quickly. "Check the radar!" Mary shouted above the noise.

Not hesitating and completely unconcerned about his nakedness, Marcus darted up out of bed, Mary right behind him as she started getting dressed into her Ghost suit. Marcs bolted out the door and down the hallway, heading for the comms room. He remembered how much he hated running naked, not that he did it often. It was strange how he was so aware of the small pains in his testicles as they slapped back and forth between his pumping legs as he jumped over the turrets, slowly training back and forth down the four hallways. The steel of the hallway floor felt uncomfortable and very cold against his bare feet, the still air feeling ice cold against his sweaty and hot bare skin.

He quickly pulled up at the open doorway of the comms room and swung around the door frame and inside, the radar screen on the front wall shining red, ominous white dots at the top of the screen causing his heart to race. He stood before the screen and scanned it properly. So far, over 20 dots were proceeding down the screen, indicating just under 9kms away, and more dots were joining them right behind by the second. He pushed a button beside the console and spoke, his voice booming throughout the hallways.

"We've got incoming! Looks like the hive is attacking. Almost 30 signals, 9kms and closing, more signals joining by the second! It's a full attack!" he shouted into the PA mic.

Without hesitation, he turned and bolted back to their quarters to get dressed and grab his gun and gear. Again, he felt his balls ache as they slapped between his legs, running full pelt down the hallway, back again to their room where he found Mary halfway into her suit.

"I'll get ready and warm up the ship in case we need to evac." She said loudly as soon as he ran inside, the sirens still blaring loudly above them.

"Copy!" he shouted back and stepped to her, helping her to suit up, running the zipper closed up her back a she grabbed her mask, sniper rifle and backpack, "Hurry!" she barked as she disappeared through the door out from sight.

Marcus grabbed his suit, lying draped across the bed and quickly set about getting it on. The zippers pulled up and closed quickly, he had little trouble pulling up the zipper for his back closed as he grabbed his mask, lying on a shelf above the bed, staring back menacingly at him. He put it on, feeling relieved to have his game face on, making him feel ready and like a warrior, as he quickly strapped on his backpack and grabbed his pulse rifle leaning against the wall.

"I'm dressed. Heading back to comms." He said coldly into his radio mic, running solidly back down the hallway, strangely relieved his balls now felt better tucked away in the crotch of his suit.

"I'm in the ship." She radioed back, "What's our status?"

He arrived back in the comms room and stood before the radar screen, stunned momentarily as the dots he saw previously looked like a large white blob, snaking menacingly down the screen to the centre. "Radar counts over 300 signals and more coming! Fuck! They're 4 kms and closing fast. 340 signals! We gotta get outta here!" He shouted into his mic as he disabled the blaring alarms.

"I'm firing up the ship. Standby!" She shouted back into her mic.

Marcus stood, his brow sweating with nervousness and excitement as he watched the white splodge on the screen get bigger, as though someone had spilled yoghurt onto the top of the screen and it was slowly oozing down the glass.

"I need 2, maybe 3 more minutes 'til the thrusters will be ready! How long have we got?" she asked.

"'Pfft, probably only 4 more minutes before they get here."

"It's gonna be tight."

"Yeah, you're telling me. I'm gonna go check the turrets."

"Copy."

Marcus quickly ran back out into the hallway and towards the centre where the two turrets were still scanning around idly, looking for targets and finding nothing. He stood over them, looking for a little screen mounted on top, which was glowing green, indicating all was fully functional.

"Turrets are fine and armed."

"Roger."

Marcus ran back to the comms room, and stood before the radar screen again, his stomach seemingly suddenly turning to ice. "Mary! They're almost here! 2kms away. Is that ship fuckin' ready yet or what?" he yelled angrily into his mic.

"Fuck! Nooo, the coolant lines are fucked. I dunno why!" her voice was panicky and wavering.

"Can you fix it?" he yelled.

"What the fuck do you think I'm trying to do!?" she barked back.

"Mary, fuck this! I'm going to the garage, we gotta get out on a buggy!" he yelled back.

"Wait! Wait, I think it's working." She yelled back excitedly.

Gripping the console, Marcus waited in silence, nervously listening to the beep of the radar screen as the white splodge edged closer to the centre, towards the station.

"Mary?"

"Hang on, fucking goddamn it!"

Getting very impatient, he gave up on her efforts as he saw the signal get inside the 1km mark. "Mary, fuck it. We've run out of time. They're inside 1km. We gotta get a buggy! NOW!"

He waited for a response.

"MARY!" he barked angrily.

Still no response.

"MARY DEAD FUCKING EYE BLAZICH! DO YOU READ ME?!"

"It's working! The thrusters are coming on! Get over here!"

"'bout fucking time, I'm coming!" he grabbed his pulse rifle and bolted for the door just as the main door to his right erupted, the aliens outside pounding on it furiously. It was buckling alarmingly quickly. Scared shitless and adrenaline surging through his excited body, he jumped behind the turrets as the corner of the door snapped open and he saw a xenomorph's body poke through, thrashing wildly.

Marcus watched as the two turrets at his feet quickly trained around and immediately erupted down the corridor, the muzzle flash consuming the entire hallway, blinding him momentarily. The noise was deafening and the vibrations through the floor caused him to flinch and jump at the shock.

The guns paused for a split second as the opening in the door was cleared and a speck of sunlight shone through for an instant, before it was replaced by another dark figure. The guns fired again, violently punching into the scrambling alien and shoving it back outside, dead. But as it did so, the door buckled completely, the right side where the hole already was gave way completely and the door seemed to open as though it was on a hinge and aliens poured in like a black swarm, hungry for whatever was inside. The turrets erupted again and held their triggers down, violently darting back and forth between targets, their gunfire a gargantuan barking roar.

Looking down the hallway, Marcus was mesmerized as he watched the great seething mass of xenomorphs block out the light behind them, scrambling along the walls, floor and ceiling desperately, even over each other in a blur of sheer numbers. The turrets worked hard as the swarm collapsed in parts, simply to be replaced by others, their screams piercing over the deafening roar of the gunfire. They seemed to gain for a moment before the turrets' fire seemed to jerk on and off, tracking individual targets.

Squinting between the bursts of fire, he could see why. The sheer number of xenomorph bodies almost formed a barricade of themselves, consuming much of the hallway, creating a bottleneck as the xenomorphs tried to scramble through.

"MARY!" Marcus screamed into his mic.

"Marcus! I'm sorry! I fucked up!"

His heart felt like it was going to explode as a sudden rush of blood flowed up to his head in anger, "WHAT?!"

"The ship won't start! It's fuc- Oh God! Marcus they're here! I see them through the windshield! They're everywhere!"

Marcus turned and ran down towards the hallway behind him, towards the landing pad, shouting into his mic, "Mary, Get out of there!"

"Oh God oh God!", he heard her scream back.

"MARY!" He screamed in desperation, feeling his chest clutch up, his throat constricting. He finally reached the hallway's main door at the end and it opened obediently, but the sight before him caused him to stop in his tracks. A great line of aliens were swarming over the ship and into the open cargo doors, impossibly fast, as though it was one giant snake slithering inside.

He heard a flash of gunfire in his earpiece and Mary's high pitched scream in his ear. "NO! MARCUS!" she pleaded, sounding like a little girl screaming desperately for her Mother, a heart-wrenching cry.

His eyes welled up as he screamed back, "MARY!" but coughed and froze as he saw the aliens turn and charge down towards him in an instant, their reaction inhumanly fast and merciless. His reflexes and trained survival instincts saved his life as he found himself running back down the hall where he came before he knew what had happened.

He was forced to squint and he screamed in terror as the turret guns turned and fired down the way at him, tearing into the swarm of aliens chasing behind. He was barely able to see where he was going as he charged down through the blinding muzzle flash of the roaring guns, their aim true, careful to avoid hitting him. The noise of the constant gunfire in the closed hallway was all-consumingly deafening

Crying and wailing, he managed to turn and charge down the hallway to the left towards the garage, not quite consciously aware of what he was doing, his mind reeling at the prospect that Mary might very well be dead, or worse, captured by those things.

He rounded through a doorway, running down through the narrow steel corridor, past the bio-hazard storage room the first dead alien had been put in and the next room where it now lay on ice. He quickly bolted past them and jumped down into the garage pit, where the buggies were parked. Marcus was thankful he had previously checked on them all and fuelled them all up 4 days ago as part of their preparations.

He could still he the roar of the turrets somewhere behind him, the thunder echoing mutely in the air and through the walls, seemingly another world away. His ears were ringing.

"MARY!" he screamed again into his radio mic. "MARY _please_, answer me!" he screamed as he threw his rifle down into the driver's seat of the first buggy and climbed into the chair, looking for the ignition. He gasped and choked as he willed her to answer him back, to hear her strong and confident voice call his name and tell him she was OK.

"_Please! _Muh-muh-Mary!" He cried again as he wrenched the ignition key around and the buggy roared to life and the roller doors opened automatically, the sunlight cutting through into the room as the door noisily rolled up and open.

He gunned the accelerator and the tires squealed loudly as he was pulled back into his seat, tearing out into the daylight. Momentarily blinded, he checked left and right and behind him. It was empty.

He kept gunning the buggy, gaining speed quickly as he tore out into the dirt and rocks, the buggy bucking and weaving as he wrenched the steering wheel back and forth, desperately avoiding the rocks without letting his foot up off the accelerator pedal, crushed down against the footwell.

He drove for what seemed like an eternity as the landscape smoothed out, almost like a road. The buggy slowed as his foot drifted off the accelerator pedal as spasms engulfed his body, tears spilling down onto his cheeks and soaking into the sweat band in the chin of his mask.

"Muh-muh-mary!" He cried.

No answer.


	11. Go Back

**Chapter 11: Go Back**

Marcus sat alone in his buggy, crying into the steering wheel as he tried to vain to get Mary to answer him back on the radio. After what seemed like a day, but closer to an hour, he gave up, crushed and shattered and turned the buggy around, back to the research station.

Taking it slowly and eyeing his motion tracker in his mask's HUD, he carefully approached the facility. It looked empty and broken, the main doors all buckled and broken inward, alien bodies piled up around the openings as he carefully circled the place, arcing around with his pulse rifle pointed out towards the base.

He pulled to a stop by the landing pad, the ship still sitting there as though nothing had happened. Forlorn and reluctant, he got out and stepped out into the dirt towards it. He climbed up the service ladder onto the steel pad and carefully crept towards the still open cargo bay doors of the ship, his gun up and ready, his motion tracker still showing no movement.

The ship was bare, some of the fittings and crates torn and scratched and the lights blown out as he slowly crept about inside, emotion threatening to overwhelm him as he neared the cockpit.

It was a mess, consoles torn and broken, a xenomorph corpse draped over one of them, its head horribly bent inward. He smiled through his welling tears. She had gone down fighting, he thought.

"Wait….. " he said aloud to himself. "Where's her body? Did they take her?" he wondered, a pang surging through his chest as he rejoiced that she might still be alive, but deadened that she might suffer the horror of being cocooned. He searched frantically throughout the torn and trashed ship. He found nothing, not even her gun.

No blood.

…..

She's alive.

Heartened, he raced back outside, looking down the broken hallway open before him. Xenomorph bodies were piled and scattered everywhere. Strewn about and broken. He carefully stepped forward, inching warily between the body piles, stepping over limp tails, talons and grinning dead alien faces as the mess cleared further down and he smiled at the sight of something.

The two little turrets were still scanning around in the middle of the junction, faithfully. The soft whirring and beeping sounding like a hello back to him. Like a faithful dog that held back the tide of hell for its master.

Giggling stupidly, he ran up to them, the nearest xenomorph body about 10 metres away from them up the northern hallway where they first broke in, the dead xenomorph intact, but its head crumpled and broken inward.

He checked the little monitors on the top of the guns, still glowing green. One gun still had 87 AXA rounds left. The other had 34.

The aliens must have retreated, he thought.

Watching the little turrets track around at his feet he had an idea, and steeled himself.

XXXXXX

He wasted no time as he disabled and folded up one of the turrets and carefully laid it down in the buggy's back seat. Back in his ship, he grabbed a spare canister of ammunition for the turret and packed it in as well.

He checked his ammunition in his backpack. Six full clips, plus the one still in his rifle which was 3 bullets short of full. 1,397 AXA rounds.

He checked his machine pistol sidearm. One full clip and one spare. 60 more AXA rounds.

He checked his rifle grenades, 5 fragmentation and 5 napalm grenades, 4 of the frag grenades loaded into his rifle's launcher.

In his backpack, his portable welder, one stick of C9 plastic explosive and one napalm bomb.

Wasting no further time, he got into the buggy and drove off determinedly towards the hive.

Not long after he started driving, he almost crashed as he heard Mary's voice, weak and crackling through his earpiece.

"uuuhhh Wuh? Muh?" she stumbled.

"MARY!" he yelled into his mic, overjoyed to hear her voice.

She seemed to jolt awake at his voice, "Marcus! Marcus! Oh god! They got me! I'm stuck on a wall and there's a fucking egg in front of me! Oh please!" She was starting to splutter and cry.

"Hang on! I'm coming! I'm coming for you, honey! I'm not leaving you behind!" he screamed back desperately into his mic, shoving his foot down on the accelerator pedal, willing the car to suddenly travel at the speed of light towards her.

Her voice was a panic, "Oh god! Oh god! It's opening! Marcus, I'm scared!" Her pleading voice stabbing into his heart, ripping his insides into pieces.

He screamed over her pleading cries, "Baby! I'm coming! Listen to me! No matter what happens, I'm coming for you! You hear me?!"

"No! Aaaah AAAAAAAAAAAAAH! Mm-plah Nooo-cah-pleh-bluh, nnn unnh." Her voice suddenly cut out and he froze, stunned, staring straight ahead out into the dirt before him.

He screamed louder and more violently than he had ever before in his life.

"NOOO! BASTARDS!!!! muthahFUCKAHS!!!!! AAAARRRRGH!"

The sadness and tearing loss he felt quickly gave way as he grunted and growled, focusing his will forwards as he drove, the steering wheel almost bending and ripping off in his hands as anger and adrenaline gushed through him.

He would save her and he would make them fucking pay.

His life didn't matter anymore. He didn't care. He just had to get to her.


	12. Find Her

**Chapter 12: Find her**

Finally, he arrived, the tracks in the dirt leading around to the right and he pulled the buggy to a stop almost right outside the cave entrance.

Wasting no time, he grabbed his pulse rifle and the loaded turret and ran inside, no even bothering to check the motion tracker, which showed no signal anyway.

His vision quickly darkened as he ran inside, his legs pumping as the mask clicked over to infra-red vision, illuminating the smooth walls of the descending cave in a green aura. He continued to run down, full pelt, unconcerned he might fall over or stumble, which he did not.

Further down he ran, his breath panting in the quiet cave, his footsteps echoing softly.

He stopped suddenly as he reached the first of the alien resin coating the cave walls. He knelt down and set the turret down on the ground, folding out the turret's legs and switching it on. The turret's feet quickly gripped the ground, little screws drilling down into the rock, securing it solidly to the floor and beeping, indicating it was armed and primed.

Without missing a beat, he got back to his feet and darted down further into the cave, his pulse rifle up in front of him and ready as he stepped onto the hard and undulating resin floor, great fingers of smooth and graceful tendrils and ridges snaking all around him and down in the cave, almost inviting him in like a beckoning hand.

He slowed his pace as he saw a couple of white dots on his motion tracker HUD in front of him. Peering into the green darkness straight ahead in the distance he could see blobs of green white light in the distance charging down towards him, fast.

Training his gun up, he lined them up down his sights and fired, one burst into the one of the left and quickly switching over to the one next to it, sending another 3 round burst down the hall, his infra-red vision flashing white like a strobe light as he fired.

Jogging, his pace steady but still swift he lowered his gun slightly as he saw the movement signals ceased and the white splodges in the distance lay still. He couldn't actually see that they were indeed xenomorphs from where he was. He was just thankful these alien bastards glowed, giving away their position so readily.

Suddenly, his motion HUD erupted as a series of dots appeared all around him. He saw gaping openings to his left and right, soft arcs of light cascading in all around him. His senses seemed to heighten as he saw the first of the aliens tear through the branching tunnels and openings towards him like flashes of lightening. Without thinking and free from fear, he snapped his arm over, arcing the gun over the tunnels and openings in the wall and pressing a series of bursts through his trigger finger, sending out great barks of death punching through the resin walls and shoving the encroaching aliens back through into the darkness.

Whipping around to the other side behind him, he flicked the gun into full-auto with his thumb and arced his fire in a long swipe all around him, snapping down 4 other monsters scrambling out towards him.

Screaming at the top of his lungs, he continued to whirl around, training up to the ceiling behind him, cutting down another about to pounce down on him.

Running backwards, he could see them pour out of the pockmarked resin tunnels into the hallway before him, bathing the way in light as they scrambled along the walls and ceilings, jumping and darting across the way, screaming and growling for him.

"FUCK YOU!" He screamed as he pumped the grenade launcher and pulled the trigger in front of the magazine catch. His gun recoiled violently, snapping up to the ceiling as the hallway was quickly engulfed by a great explosion, blowing him off his feet and sending him tumbling backwards over into the ridged and uneven ground.

Stunned and confused, he groaned as he tried to figure out where his arms and legs had gone. He had difficulty collecting himself together for a moment, but staggered to his feet successfully. He had to shield his eyes as he surveyed the raging fire in front of him and flinched as he saw a blur of white light surge through the flames towards him. By reflex, he brought his rifle up and pressed the trigger, arcing gunfire up from the ground just in front of him, all the way up into the ceiling above him.

Confused and stunned, he tumbled over backwards again as something slammed into his chest, knocking the breath out of him. He hit the ground hard on his side, but managed to roll somewhat away and hitch one arm underneath him, losing his rifle.

He forced his eyes back open and reached out, finding a dimpled and slimy wall next to him and pulled himself up to his feet, trying to look back over his shoulder to see what happened.

Stumbling and unsteady, he saw a glowing dead alien lying on the ground just next to him, his rifle pinned, the butt sticking out from underneath its legs.

He stepped forward and reached down quickly, puffing and stiff, as he grabbed the rifle butt and heaved it out, the dead alien turning over onto its side, large dimples punched into its body from its stomach all the way up its chest and its head. Its face in particular had imploded inward, it would have been quite comical had he not been so scared and hyped, down in this underground xenomorph cave hive, choking down great mouthfuls of humid air that tasted of rotten egg and melting metal, as strange as that sounds.

Gasping for breath, his arms and back aching and sore, he clutched the rifle to his chest and checked around him. Oddly, his motion tracker was empty and apart from the dying fire further down behind him, nothing was moving.

Without thinking about it, he checked his rifle's ammo counter, which read '13' and he quickly ejected the magazine. He reached around behind him and grabbed a magazine poking out of the bottom of his backpack and pulled it out. The backpack worked like a pez dispenser where magazines were fed into a spring-loaded mechanism down the side of the bag and were pulled out through an opening at the bottom for easy access. He snapped the magazine into the gun, glad to hear the sharp snap and clank of the loading mechanism engaging and his ammo counter rocket back up to '200'.

Swallowing tiredly, he steadied his footing and slowly walked further down into the cave. Scanning the walls around him and occasionally looking over his shoulder as he proceeded further down, deeper, the air getting thicker, almost misty. The rotten egg and melting metal smell was getting more pungent.

The resin designs lining the walls almost reminded him of a gothic style cathedral he once visited back on Earth. He almost admired the architecture of the dark and ridged corridor until it started widening and angled further down.

A dot on his motion tracker caught his attention. He almost broke out into a joyful laugh. It was a red dot.

Mary.


	13. Confrontation

**Chapter 13: Confrontation**

Mary.

There she was on his tracker radar.

Marcus started to break out into a run when saw the myriad of white dots surrounding her position.

Hesitating for a moment, he tightened his grip on his pulse rifle and ran forward again down the widening tunnel. He continued to run as fast as he could, even as he saw a great white glow seep down the corridor towards him, illuminating the droplets of water and mist wafting around him.

He ignored the pain in his legs.

He ignored the ache in his arms and back.

He ignored his throbbing headache.

He ran faster anyway.

The red and white dots remained still, unmoving, as he approached them towards a jut in the rock before him. The cave ceiling suddenly came down very low, white light shining off a puddle of water at his feet. He stooped down and stepped cautiously through, and his eyes went wide with shock.

He was standing in an immense queen alien's lair. The enormous and gaping cavern stretching up and over him, over 10 metres high and spanning over 30 metres down towards a giant queen alien standing before him, rows upon rows of eggs lined up before her, aliens drone guards hovering about her on the rocky walls behind her.

Marcus' infra-red vision automatically reverted back to normal vision since the glowing light emanation from the queen was so strong. It was as though there was a giant light bulb inside her, glowing through her skin and radiating out into the cavern. Even all of the eggs lined out before him glowed softly, the face huggers inside curled up and pulsing.

Marcus gripped his rifle as he stepped forward, looking for Mary. He saw a face hugger wrapped around someone's face on the wall to the right of the queen, supposing it must be her.

The queen started to rise up and stared at him, the drones on the walls behind her spreading out and climbing along the walls out towards him. Even as they scrambled towards him, he had to stop and marvel at the sheer size and presence of the alien queen, especially as she glowed. Surely no one had ever seen something like this before, he thought.

He quickly snapped out of his trance and surveyed the drone xenomorphs climbing along towards him on all sides. Swiftly and gracefully, he brought his gun up and arced around a full circle, tracking along the left wall, the ceiling, the right wall and the ground, getting a bead on each of the aliens and firing off a 3 round bursts on each of them, coolly and methodically.

They all fell, especially the three on the ceiling who fell down limp to the ground below, denting the eggs they landed on, draping over them clumsily and sliding off into the puddles of water below.

Now he lowered his gun and stared back at the queen before him, her huge grinning face pulled out from under her protective head carapace and she seemed to stare back.

Snapping her head, she opened her maw, showing all of her long translucent teeth and screamed a strangely breathy and high pitched wail towards him, causing him to flinch back as it echoed through the cavern.

His headache now pounded behind his eyes and his heart pumping in his ears, Marcus gripped his gun and stepped forward cautiously into the egg field before him as the queen continued to eye him menacingly, still sitting down on her egg ovipositor.

Step by step he inched out, between the glowing pulsing eggs.

A slurping sound caught his attention behind him.. He spun around and saw the opened egg in the far corner behind him. He immediately brought his gun up and fired at it, aiming for the centre of the pulsing sac and blew it apart in an instant.

Angrily, he spun on his heels and faced the queen again, shouting at her, "FUCKING BITCH!", aiming his gun at her face. She screamed again and lurched around, but stayed put. Her legs planted to the ground and still, the ovipositor behind her pulsing and throbbing disgustingly, slime dangling and slipping down onto the wet floor behind her.

Carefully, he continued to step between the glowing egg field, inching his way diagonally towards Mary, cocooned on the wall 10 metres away now directly to his right. The queen looking very tense and angry only 8 metres directly in front of him. HE paused a moment to settle his breathing and calm down.

Sidestepping slowly, eyeing the queen through his gun sights the whole time, until he finally reached Mary.

He turned and looked up at her, a face hugger covering her face, it's flaps pulsating as it pumped air down into her lungs, it knuckled fingers gripped tightly around her head and its tail tightening threateningly, as though it knew he was there and what he wanted to do. He could see her feet poking out from the resin slime that clung her to the wall and her mask was laying upside down in a puddle by his feet. A strong surge of love and anger coursed through him, steeling his resolve to get her out of here.

He turned back to the queen as it continued to just sit there, calm and waiting. Patient.

He reached down to his left leg and pulled a combat knife out of a button pouch in his shin, the knife gleaming brightly in the gloom, reflecting sharply against the polished steel.

Carefully, he stabbed the knife into the wall and jimmied large chunks of goo and resin off of Mary as she lay stuck and comatose. Slowly, he peeled away the large swathe of goo and other biomass that covered her and she slowly slumped down towards him, falling into his arms, a long bridge of goo still clinging to the wall from her leg, which tore easily as he stepped away, back out towards the middle of the cavern through the egg field.

Slowly, he hoisted Mary up over his shoulder, her feet dangling down over his chest, the spine of the facehugger jutting into the small of his back. It felt unnatural and very unnerving, feeling it throb and pulsate.

Making sure his steps were solid and secure, he inched his way backwards towards the cavern entrance, Marcus and the queen staring back at each other, neither of them trying anything. Marcus listened carefully for anymore opening eggs, but heard nothing besides the queen's raspy breathing, the water splashing softly at his feet and his own breathing, sharp and fast.

Finally, he reached the low entrance of the cavern and, after giving the queen one final 'don't fuck with me' stare, he stooped down and awkwardly stepped under and through the low threshold, his back aching at the effort as Mary still lay comatose over his shoulder, weighing him down.

Sighing audibly as he stepped back out into the dark corridor, his vision switched back over to infra-red and he stepped forward, much more relaxed, a sense of victory seeping through his body.

Suddenly, the motion tracker on his HUD erupted into a sea of white dots behind him and he bolted into a run, as fast as he could up the resin-covered cave. Mary bounced awkwardly on his shoulder as he ran, his legs pumping furiously, eating up the distance before him.

He quickly stole a look behind him and saw a swarm of facehuggers clamouring after him, running fast, their tails snapping and bobbing up in the air, like scorpions.

He tried to will his legs to run faster. He was running quite fast, but his legs were tiring quickly, Mary's weight on his shoulder and the incline of the cave making him work hard. Desperate and almost crying, he charged on, not daring to look back as he saw the movement signals in his HUD slowly close in on him.

His legs were feeling heavy, and he had an idea. With his spare left hand, he reached down and fumbled a hand into his left thigh pocket, pulling out a frag grenade. Quickly, he pressed down the trigger on the top and dropped it. He would have wanted a napalm grenade, but it was in his right thigh pocket, which he couldn't reach.

Pushing hard, he saw the mass of dead and glowing xenomorph bodies passing by as he pushed up the steepening incline, the thinning air reminding him he was getting closer to the entrance. More specifically, the turret gun he placed up there.

Suddenly, the grenade behind him went off, the booming explosion resounding through the claustrophobic hive maze and central corridor, the small shock wave pushing him forward and threatening to topple him over. Scrambling desperately, he knew that if he fell, he was dead, and so was Mary.

Mary.

He couldn't let her down.

His legs were burning, lactic acid threatening to cramp them down, but he managed to get a solid foot under him and stay upright.

Just as he stepped forward again, a little wobbly as he started to lose feeling in his thighs, he felt something grab onto his left calf, fingers clamping down tightly around his leg and scramble up. Screaming between heaving breaths, he forced his legs to pump and saw the face hugger clinging to his leg as he looked down, glowing brightly through his infra-red vision.

His legs were about to give out he felt, he couldn't go on and he stumbled as he tripped on the face hugger's tail under his foot. Screaming in frustration, he collapsed down into the ridged ground, tumbling, Mary falling loose off his shoulder and collapsing limply beside him.

He panicked as he felt the face hugger scramble up his leg and saw it spring up into the air towards him.

He yelped in fear, thinking it was the end and he had failed, but was surprised to the little crab-like creature blown back down into the tunnel with a loud noise.

Gunfire.

He heard it again, deafening and bright, he looked up and saw the turret above him, 20 metres away tracking and firing back down towards him. He felt the heat and air pressure surge around him as bullets whizzed by, just missing him.

Relief washed over him as he rolled over and wrapped an arm around Mary who lay next to him, face down, the face hugger still pulsing and clutching tightly to her face. Giggling as new life washed over him, he lifted her up and stepped a foot underneath her and clutched her to his chest, eyeing the attached facehugger with passionate hatred as he slowly stepped up to the turret, still barking and firing around him in quick bursts, snapping left and right as he calmly walked up towards it.

Step after step he pushed up and finally stood next to the faithful little turret as it continued to spew forth computer guided hellfire down the cave, face huggers exploding and popping open all over the place, the ground, the walls, the ceiling. It was mesmerizing to watch.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Three face huggers were blown apart in quick succession as they scaled the ceiling in vain trying to get passed to him.

Suddenly, the turret whipped around towards him and fired over his shoulder, bringing down a stray xenomorph from above him, sending it tumbling down to his feet.

Snapping out of his triumphant stupor, he waited in next to the turret warily as it continued to blow apart facehuggers back down in the cave. However, the gun fire abruptly ceased and Marcus' motion tracker screen in his mask HUD showed no signals.

All was clear.

Smiling, he adjusted Mary in his arms and stepped up the steep cave, a great shaft of daylight stabbing down towards him, bathing him in a crisp warmth.

Finally, he reached the entrance and stepped outside triumphantly, laughing wildly and stupidly. The air cool and clean and refreshing, the light welcome and bright, stinging his eyes. Victorious as he looked down at Mary, limp in his arms, the ugly view of the facehugger ruining his moment of triumph.

He had to get her back to the ship, put her into cryo.

He stepped forward and sat her down into the buggy that was still waiting for him. He belted her in and sat down himself, turning the ignition and stepping down on the accelerator hurriedly.

It was fortunate that he did as something big and heavy blocked out the sublight above him and crashed down heavily into the dirt just behind the buggy.

It was the fucking queen!

He crushed the accelerator hard into the footwell as he wrenched the car around boulders and the uneven ground, a loud high pitched scream behind him causing him to look back over his shoulder.

The queen alien shone and glinted in the day light, standing well over 8 metres tall and running right after him, fast. Very fast. Dust kicked up and the ground shook as her giant spiked feet crashed down into the earth with every step.

Despite the buggy's engine revving up high, touching the redline and roaring loudly, the queen was gaining, running and hurdling great boulders he had to drive and zig-zag around.

She was closing fast. She was right on them!

Her great tail snapped down, catching the back frame of the buggy and skewing it sideways, but Marcus shoved the wheel over into opposite-lock and managed to stabilize it in a smooth drift and then straighten up.

He looked over his shoulder and closed his eyes as the queen jumped high and blocked out the sun above them. Time seemed to slow down as he saw her massive body, legs and arms outstretched as she dropped down onto them, her gaping maw screaming victory, its teeth shining a wicked smile.

Suddenly, an almighty great roar killed Marcus' hearing and the queen was violently shoved out of the air and sent smashing out into the dirt behind him.

Confused, Marcus snapped his head left and right and saw nothing. He looked up and marveled at the sight.

High up in the distant sky, he saw a ship, hovering in the sky. A great huge space ship he recognized as a military cruiser.

He laughed as he saw a great flash erupt from the side of the distant cruiser and surge down to the earth behind him. Looking over his shoulder as he slowed the buggy down, he saw the queen alien writhing around painfully. Surges of electricity zapping and crackling around her as she shuddered and spasmed and collapsed limply down with a great thud.

He laughed and cried as he bathed in the shadow of his rescuers, the delirium of salvation washing over him as he collapsed into the steering wheel, crying and exhausted.


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**Proctor Osman Assignment Summary Report**

**Date 3 June 2251**

_Assignment #4-A94_

_Executive Summary of LV-943 contract with Develin Exploration._

**Mission successful?** Yes

**Mission objective?** Determine the cause of the disappearances of station personnel.

**Outcome?** Xenomorph hive presence detected, deemed responsible.

**Secondary considerations?** See assignment #4-A95

**Issues?** See assignment #4-A95

XXX

_Assignment #4-A95_

_Executive Summary of LV-943 contract with Develin Exploration and Colonial Administration. ._

**Mission successful?** Yes

**Mission objective?** Secure live xenomorph presence on planet.

**Outcome?** Xenomorph queen secured for capture from primary planet hive by shock cannon. Secondary hive presence located subsequent to this with a hive population of over 200, inclusive of another queen, secured by Alpha and Zeta Squads.

**Secondary considerations?** PROS agent Mary Blazich was subjected to cocoon process and rescued from hive by Marcus Stanford. Successful extraction of agent and removal of facehugger and implanted embryo. Physical examination all clear. Fit for duty.

Xenomorph species now subject to intense study by Ali Mustapha. Xenomorph species shows unique characteristic: glows in the dark. Hypothesised that a type of energy absorbing crystal, unique to LV-943 is linked to this phenomenon. Current experiments to determine how this occurs and whether other energy types, such as electromagnetism and radiation, have any similar effect are currently underway.

The following recommendations have been made:

Mary Blazich: promoted from junior agent (sniper) to senior agent (sniper)

Marcus Stanford: promoted from junior agent (standard weapons) to squad leader (Gamma)

Proposed members of Gamma squad:

Marcus Stanford (squad leader)

Mary Blazich (sniper)

Gamma squad will be limited to these two personnel only.

**Issues?** Potential relationship exists between these two members, however management have been assured this is not the case.

**Author:** Henry Waterman, Chief Executive Officer, Proctor Osman Inc.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** Thanks for reading. Please leave a review and let me know what you think. If feedback is positive, Marcus and Mary will return for more adventures. Many thanks,

Hoobajoo


	15. Book II: Introduction

**_Author's note: This is the sequel to the original Hell is Underground story I wrote with Marcus and Mary of PROS on LV-893. I hope you enjoy. Please drop in a review or send me a PM to let me know what you think or your thoughts on what you would like to see._**

**_Many thanks,_**

**_Hoobajoo_**

**Aliens: Hell is Underground II**

**Chapter 1: Introduction**

Steam and dripping water everywhere. I hate it when I have to go down here. Gregory mused to himself. Oh well, at least it's good exercise.

One hand over the other, he climbed down the grimy ladder into the lower levels of the maze of pipes and caverns of the Transport Substation he worked in as a maintenance contractor.

Why do they have to send me alone down here? It's creepy.

He jumped, letting his left hand almost slip from the ladder as the carven rumbled with a deep grinding echo, a bullet train passing through an overhead tunnel. It was clear due to the clenching of his teeth and his eyes gripping shut by reflex that he had forgotten to put in his ear plugs as advised by work safety regulations. Scrambling, he managed to secure his grip on the ladder rungs again as he rode out the rest of the rumbling cacophony, opening his eyes with a sigh and relaxing as it trailed off into the distance.

Goddamn it!

It only took a few more measured steps down the greasy steel ladder until he touched down in solid ground, concrete and dust. His feet tingled and his legs quivered slightly after the previous scare as he fumbled a hand into his trouser pocket for his ear plugs in the gloomy darkness.

Grappling with the little plastic packet, sealed shut and refusing to easily rip apart, he managed to finally get them out and push them into his ears as the next train rumbled along overhead, muffled comfortably.

Much better, he breathed into his small mask, already staining a slight tinge of grey as the simple fibro-plastic filter started to clog from the ample dust in the air. He could even begin to taste it and was thankful he also wore his regulation plastic eyewear, otherwise he was sure his eyes would be stinging and watering by now.

Two more months of this shit and my contract's over. Just get the job done and get out of here.

The stiff leather of his work gloves chafed against his sweaty palms and knuckles as he turned to look for the pipe junction that had ruptured earlier. The reason he had been sent down here.

The long tall cavern he was standing in stretched up a good 50 metres, an amazing sight as great tongues of reinforced tubes of steel and concrete criss-crossed overhead, the maze that was the underground train system in this area. Wrapped around them and snaking between them were the mass of cables and pipes for God knew what. Probably everything from phone lines and sewerage piping.

Just down the way, the doorway he was looking fore became apparent in the misty gloom, a grimy hatch doorway towards the maze of more pipes below that he actually had responsibility for.

The state of ever worsening decay and disrepair of these pipes and cables never failed to astonish him. Nevermind the complex controls and computer systems above ground that were used to direct and control the country, this is where everything happened. This was where your shit was pumped and taken away, where your water came from, where the phone line and power cables that let you download your porn ran. If a rat bit into them, the whole neighbourhood goes down. If someone like me fell down and broke a pipe or conduit in half, God knows what might happen. The whole frigging country might have to miss the next episode of whatever bullshit re-run you were watching.

The bill to refurbish and repair all of this infrastructure was getting bigger every year the government refused to acknowledge it. What do I care, though? Not my job. Or soon won't be.

On he strolled as he gripped the wheel of the hatch and was surprised to feel it was quite loose and easy to turn.

Fuck.

Gregory had heard stories of how these underground networks were used by smugglers to store and transport drugs and guns. He had tensed his muscles as he gripped the wheel, expecting it to be half-rusted stiff, but the tension had been broken by someone else beforehand. Someone had been here before.

Hopefully it was a contractor like himself at some point and not a drug runner or even a homeless bum. The prospect of another foreign presence down here was not tasteful or the least bit comforting. For all he knew, it was a rapist pervert of some sort. Gregory's sphincter clutched absently at the thought.

Get in, do your thing, get out.

After a few tugs, the wheel turned its full circle and the latch snapped free, the door slackening in his hands. With a great squeaked and scream, the door opened revealing the next ladder he had to climb down inside a small room, illuminated by the bright flashlight strapped to his helmet.

There's graffiti on the walls. Who the fuck is gonna come down here and see this shit besides me?

Whatever. Down I go.

oooo00oooo

Finally he found it. The piping junction that had triggered a dive in pressure for the hydraulic fluid, necessary to drive the crane system topside in the train yard, had a large hole in it the size of his own head.

Time to turn on the video link up so Stephenson can have a look. Stephenson was the head of maintenance and was the one who sent Gregory to find and confirm the rupture.

"Stephenson, it's Gregory. I found it. Take a look." He craned his face forwards to try and angle the small helmet camera, right next to the flashlight, so they could get a decent look.

"Stephenson?"

"Yeah, sorry Greg. Was on another call. Looks like there might be another rupture in the same pipe besides this one. What can you see?"

"Looks like a hole the size of a football, must have been punched in by something. Can't see any debris around."

"Hm, OK. I need you to follow the pipe to your right and try and find the other breakage. Shouldn't be far away. Once you find it, we'll send down Robby and Grover with a patch kit and we should be happy."

"Oh yeah, hey. I saw graffiti before inside the hatch room at the top of the ladder down here. Maybe it was kids or something."

"Whatever, this needs to be fixed. Go find the other breakage."

"OK." Leaving the camera on and running, he turned and followed the piping as it snaked along in the darkness, spiders and tendrils of grease covering the floor and surrounding walls. The pipe itself was relatively clean considering.

Further down, the conditions became a little more cramped and Gregory had difficulty seeing in front of him as the humidity rose and the mess of other criss-crossing piping cast creepy shadows all around him, jumping around as his flashlight bobbed with every step.

Fucking hate this shit. It'll be good when Grover and Rob get down here. Grover stinks, but not as bad as this place.

A knot of pipes and tubing blocked the way, forcing him to get down on his stomach crawl beneath them. Gregory was conscious of how a claustrophobic might feel down here. Alone in the dark in the cramped and hot conditions and the nearest person was via radio who sat in a brightly lit air-conditioned office, sitting in an imitation leather office chair who earned twice as much as you did 300 metres above you.

Gergory flinched and bumped his helmet on an overhead steel pipe as Stephenson's voice broke the silence, cutting into his ear. "You there yet?"

"No!" Gregory exclaimed, instantly biting his lip when he realised he said it with more disrespect and frustration than he intended.

"Hurry up." Was Stephenson's terse reply. "Shouldn't be far now. Y'know I had to do this stuff too. It's not exactly fun, but that's the job."

"Yes, sir." Gregory mumbled as the restrictive piping overhead turned back upwards and the way cleared, allowing him to stand again with a grateful sigh.

There it was. The piping intersection had another similar hole in it. It looked exactly the same. Even Stephenson could see it through the blurred video feed.

"There she is. I'll get Robby and Grover down there now. Sit tight for a bit."

"OK, but can I-" he stopped abruptly as he heard something clang in the distance, echoing hollowly out of the darkness. He looked for the noise, but his view was obstructed by a bulkhead of some sort.

"What is it?" Stephenson asked.

"Th-thought I heard something. Must just be nothing."

There it was again. Closer this time.

Gregory's heart rate started to jump.

"Relax Greg. It's just a funny noise. Probably just a switch-over."

"Yeah…" Greg mumbled, thoroughly unconvinced.

Another noise, scraping of some sort, coming from the other direction, behind him. Hot sweat threatened to sting his eyes as the walls and shadows started to close in around him. Trembling hands reached for the secondary torch on his belt to get a better look, to dispel the darkness and to confirm that there was nothing there.

Shit, shit, goddamn it. His hands quivered and trembled so much he only managed to knock the torch out of the loop in his utility belt and sent it crashing down on the concrete floor, turning it on as it hit the floor.

Something was illuminated right in front of him, strange feet of some sort that shone black and warped against the stained concrete floor.

Gregory couldn't move or breath, other than to raise his head slowly to take in the sight before him, bathed in the harsh glow of the helmet light.

Oh god, oh god. It's huge!

It was like nothing he had ever seen before. Somehow black, even though bearing the full brunt of his torch light, it stood still like a twisted obsidian statue. Absolutely unmoving, but he could hear it breathing.

Slowly, he looked up from it's thin legs, reminded briefly of the legs of his mother, sickly and dessicated before she died from liver cancer. Up, a rib cage, unnaturally pronounced and sunken, like a starving man on the edge of death. Everything about this creature reeked of impending death, amplified when he arced his view further upwards to the creature's featureless face.

Nothing.

Even when the cold realisation that this creature was going to horribly kill him, he couldn't help but admire the strikingly evil beauty of it, even as it's mouth and lips quivered, revealing sharp translucent teeth, bared and eager for blood.

Oh god, oh god.

No, god did not make this creature, he thought, enamoured in terror, oblivious to the release of his bowels. As though somehow offended, the creature struck, surging forward with lightning speed before Gregory had the presence of mind to register it.

Dead before he knew what happened, smeared across the wall behind him as his helmet fell to the floor. Stephenson sat on the other end frozen in terror in his office as he watched, fixed to the screen as blood streaked down the camera lens, eventually blocking out the feed altogether.


	16. Service Request

**Aliens: Hell is Underground II**

**Chapter 2: Service Request**

The suppleness of the leather chair was doing an excellent job of trying to lull Marcus back to sleep in the Proctor Osman ("PROS") meeting room as Clint Brody, the head client service manager, spoke with a representative from the Martian Rail Network ("MRN").

It was 3am and both Mary and Marcus had been woken up to attend to an urgent request for assistance. A maintenance worker had been attacked and presumably killed by a xenomorph in the underground maintenance tunnels beneath McClean Station on Mars. It happened 2 hours ago.

"What was the man's name?" Clint asked.

"Gregory Urslav, 27 of Russian descent, but born on Mars. He was working at MRN as a maintenance contractor whilst studying Transportation Engineering at Gratton University. He was due to finish his contract in about another 2 months and his Uni degree about another 3 months after that." The man on the other end, an MRN executive of some sort, oozed forced sympathy down the phone. "Very unfortunate."

"Yes it is." Clint replied with the same tone. "So, we have reviewed the footage and are satisfied with the conclusion it's a xenomorph, but is there any indication how it got there or how many there might be?"

"To be quite frank, no idea and no idea, is my answer to that. That's one of the reasons we have approached you guys, because we have no idea what's going on. I don't need to lecture to you the potentially catastrophic outcome that could arise, or the magnitude of panic, if word of this got out, or God forbid, this thing escaped."

Clint leaned in towards the phone speaker to ensure his reassuring words could be heard in full, "We are here to make sure that does not happen."

"Good." The man replied, placated somewhat.

"So, is there anything in particular we need to know about the underground tunnels before we send Marcus and Mary out?"

"Yes, motion trackers won't work down there."

What? Marcus sat bolt upright in his chair.

"Sorry, can you repeat that? Why?" he replied, alarmed at the prospect.

"Given that many of the pipes down there are used for hydraulics, they are lined with magnesium and chromium soaked concrete. My security advisor tells me that negates or dulls the effectiveness of the tracker."

"I see." Marcus replied.

"Besides, there's an extensive train system down there and piping running fluids, which I would assume would also interfere with motion readings."

"Possibly." Marcus replied curtly.

"Does this create a problem?" the man replied, nervous from Marcus' uncomfortable reply.

Marcus and Clint exchanged an uncertain stare before he replied again, "It doesn't make the job easier. I mean, let me get this straight. It's dark, so I'll need to operate with infra-red, it's cramped so I can't take any heavy weapons with me and we don't know how many there might be and we also don't know what else might be down there!" The tension was obvious in Marcus' voice.

"Uh, that's right, I suppose."

Marcus was losing patience with the ridiculousness of the job's requirements, "What's the state of repair down there? Is the floor gonna fall out from under my feet?"

Clint elbowed Marcus quickly to stifle any further negativity and took control of the conversation again, eager to reassure his client who had alluded before that they would be prepared to pay a substantial premium above standard charge out rates, both in the name of quick response and confidentiality. "Uh, Gavin, I'm sure you can appreciate the difficulties this engagement presents. I can assure we can handle it." he said, staring Marcus coldly in the face. "We will need to be prepared and plan for certain contingencies, but I assure you, Marcus and Mary are up to the job. Aren't you, Marcus?"

Marcus stared back into Clint's eyes and got the message. "Yes, sir."

"Good." The MRN rep responded.

Clint relaxed upon hearing the client's approval and looked to negotiate. "Gavin, as we touched upon earlier, this is an unusual and difficult job, but not outside the realms of our expertise, obviously."

Oh, obviously, a surly Marcus mused to himself, almost chuckling at the absurdity of the conversation.

Clint continued, not noticing, "Our budget for the job, taking into account the increase degree of danger and uncertainty, as well as the quick response, would be in the order of $10 million. The final bill would have to be confirmed when the job is done, subject to the amount of equipment and disbursements consumed."

The headline daily rate for an agent of Marcus' calibre for high danger assignments was $500,000. In all likelihood, this job would only take one or two days. Marcus baulked at the substantial premium, but Clint remained relaxed and confident as he awaited Gavin's reply.

"Fine." He replied without hesitation.

Clint winced, aware that Gavin's quick approval probably meant he was prepared to go higher. "Good. Well, that's settled. We will despatch Marcus and Mary immediately, and they should arrive within the next 2 hours."

"Thank you." He replied, sounding as though his own life had been saved. Hopefully, his job had been.

oooo00oooo

From PROS headquarters to the Mars McClean train station was an hour long ride via jet. McClean station was one of the older train stations on Mars and used to serve as the central point of travel interchange between the northern and southern business districts. The age of its facilities meant it was of reduced importance, but nevertheless carried a passenger turnover of over 25 million people per day, both on its platforms and through passengers.

The ride over in the chauffeured jet was thoroughly uneventful, and both Marcus and Mary were keen to get a little extra sleep. Mary had organised for their usual equipment, ghost suits, Marcus' pulse rifle and machine pistol sidearm, Mary's sniper rifle and machine pistol sidearm, all sporting AXA (anti-xenomorph) rounds. However, Mary had also included close quarters M100 flame throwers, which were more compact versions of the standard issue M240 Colonial Marine flamethrowers, lighter, shorter and less powerful, but much more useful given the anticipated tight spaces.

It was 50 minutes into the flight, with 15 minutes until arrival, that they were woken by the pilot to be served breakfast.

"Morning, sir, ma'am." The young male waiter softly spoke, willing the two agents awake. "Breakfast is about to be served. Protein enriched eggs, pasta and coffee and your stimulants."

"Thanks." Marcus mumbled he inhaled sharply and rubbed his eyes, speaking for Mary as she grumbled and turned over in her chair. "C'mon, bitch. Wake up."

"Do I have to?" she moaned, her hair snaking out from under her blanket and down the side of pillow like a shining brown river.

"Yes, you do." He replied, tensing his body to try and dispel the stiffness. "C'mon. Get up. Time to stretch."

"I hate you." She groaned half-playfully.

It felt good to stand finally after the long meeting with Clint and the MRN executive and nap on the plane. Ripples of a coming yawn shot up his back as he stretched up to the cabin's ceiling, grabbing an exposed beam above. Blinking roughly, he looked down the cabin to the bulkhead, behind which the pilot was, undoubtedly, radioing their approach.

A sea of peach fabric lined the cramped cabin. It was a military grade space craft, but had been refurbished so that it resembled a civilian passenger craft, although there were distinct elements, such as the steel beam he was currently grabbing, that belied the civilised seemingly luxurious interior. Leather couch seating, wood panelling (surely plastic fake wood panelling, he supposed) and soft dark blue carpet did their best to exude opulence, but the effect was lost on Marcus. Ordinarily, they would have travelled in something more spartan and functional like a K110 cruiser, but it was being used by Alpha squad on assignment to Theyman, a planet used by the Colonial Military and United Protectorates as a training facility. They were overseeing Xenomorph training exercises. A particularly cushy assignment consisting of sitting around yelling at poor marine privates and cadets to run faster and shoot straighter.

Poor sods, Marcus giggled.

"What?" Mary inquired through her messy hair as she joined in stretching, needing to jump up to grab the same steel beam and hang off to loosen her shoulders.

"Nothing. How you doing?"

"Alright." She mumbled.

"No bad dreams?" he asked softly.

Marcus absently looked down to the, as yet, still visible scar that ran down her chest, poking out the top of her singlet, a remnant from when she was cocooned on their last mission, when Marcus had saved her. The alien and facehugger had been removed easily enough, but Mary had been suffering from intermittent, but recurring, dreams of the capture where Marcus didn't make it in time.

"No, I'm fine."

Marcus loved her dearly, but he hated when she lied to her. She was a shitty liar, and she knew it, but she lied anyway.

"I don't like the sound of this mission. You sure you don't want me coming down there with you?" she asked, unlike her usually cheerful self when she decides the day has begun and she has shaken off her rising from bed.

"We been over this." Marcus replied with a hint of frustration. Indeed, they had gone over the plan and decided that it would be best if Mary stayed close to the central hatch connecting the top side and underground and provide guidance and cover to Marcus who would proceed down below on his own. The tight spaces anticipated meant that the two of them going down together would just get in each other way and risk shooting each other. Neither of them were comfortable with the idea, but had no better alternative.

Besides, Mary was used to open spaces as a sniper and there was the genuine prospect that she might not be able to handle the claustrophobia.

"OK." She replied meekly. "I just don't feel good about this one."

"Neither do I, but I'm sure we'll be OK."

As if signalling their end of the discussion, the young waiter brought in steaming plastic trays with breakfast, which both of the agents promptly sat down to eat. They had to eat rather quickly given final approach was only 10 or so minutes away.

They ate in silence, both privately mulling over the mission and their own doubts and uneasiness, but in Marcus' case, this was dispelled when his thoughts drifted back to last night when he had Mary in his arms. Their relationship was so far being kept a secret and they had both personally assured PROS management that nothing untoward was going on. Whilst prying eyes were around, such as this plane and when they got to the Mars train station, they would have to continue acting professional and keeping their guard. It was tiring, but necessary.

Mary downed the last of her toast and coffee and reached for the stimulant patch laid neatly on the tray. It was a small circle of clear material the size of a large coin and the thickness of a piece of paper, which she carefully attached to her arm below the shoulder and rubbed in to expel any trapped air. The patch released hormones and stimulants that would keep them both wide awake for the next 24 hours. It was deemed necessary given they were woken at 2am that morning and it was 4:30 am now Earth time.

Marcus followed suit as he gulped his warm coffee, slightly acidic and overly bitter, and attached his patch in kind.

"Please secure your belongings and selves and engage your seatbelts, we are beginning final approach." The pilots voice crackled over the intercom, as though sensing they were ready, perfect timing.

oooo00oooo

The touchdown to the station landing pad was quick and uneventful. Waiting for them were two non-descript security personnel, both slightly tubby and probably lowly paid, who politely escorted the pair downstairs to a lower floor. Wary of the need for discretion, Mary and Marcus both carried their equipment, suits and arms, in large carry bags, mounted on trolleys. For all the guards knew, they were maintenance people or mechanics with heavy equipment.

Wheeling their equipment down a bare and harshly lit corridor, they were both escorted inside a small meeting room where a man promptly rose to welcome them. Hunched and tired, grey teabags sagging prominently under his eyes, he reached to shake Marcus' hand.

"Good to meet you. I'm Victor Shendon, Director of Operations for McClean station. I'm so glad you came on such short notice." His smile and demeanour was reminiscent of a schoolboy who had been given answers for an important test he had not studied for. "I apologise for the early hour."

"Not at all, sir." Mary smiled warmly. "We're very used to it."

Victor smiled, glad for Mary's brevity and reassurance, likely contrasting heavily with the accusatory and demanding reaction from his superiors. "Please sit. Let's get this underway."

Everyone made themselves comfortable in the functional office swivel chairs as Victor's face turned grave upon having to reflect yet again on the problem at hand. He chewed his nails nervously as he pondered what to say. "So you are here to take care of this alien problem down in the tunnels, yes?"

The obviousness of the answer to his question was more a means to hear a reassuring answer than to educate. Marcus smiled politely and nodded, "That's right. We had a conversation with an exec this morning and are aware of the requirements, but is there anything specific you wanted to go through with us?"

Victor continued to chew his nails, looking down at the table as though mulling over something delicate, "Yes, there is. Let me give you some background on what things are like down there. Maybe even on how this thing got there." Although he had their full attention, he felt the need to lean forward across the table, elbows digging into the rubber lining covering the polished wood. "These tunnels are very old. When things were first built here, it was things like sewerage lines, cables, gas piping, phone lines, that sort of thing.

Over time, as the population grew, more infrastructure was built over the top, including the train tunnels which are only just below ground, relatively speaking. There's conduits and pipes down there that, likely, people haven't seen or checked on in over 20 years. Our schematics are limited to what is relevant to us, so it's a bit of an unknown."

He steadied his breath and focussed his thoughts, reaching idly for a mint in a small glass bowl just in front of him, popping the packet and poking the small lolly in his mouth before he spoke again, his voice slightly hushed.

"There's long been a suspicion that certain illegal activities go on down there. I'm sure you could appreciate the rumour that smuggling goes on. A perfect place for it given no one hardly ever goes down there. For instance, before this guy died, he reported graffiti on one of the walls.

The police never go down there. Who would want to? You have to wear goggles and a mask to protect you from the air down there! But the network of tunnels following the train lines and whatever other pipelines mean you could travel around most of Mars Central. It's perfect for smuggling.

Anyway, I have a theory that this alien was part of a contraband smuggling operation of some sort that maybe went foul and this thing escaped. Maybe it killed whatever gangsters were down there. I don't know, but I'm sure the top brass guys are just desperate to get this whole mess covered up and make it all go away. This would be a catastrophic PR disaster of the highest order if this ever got out!"

The veins on Victor's forehead were bulging as he meandered on, prompting Mary to butt in and refocus his thoughts. "Well, we are here to take care of all this. You don't have to do anything except provide support and back up for when we go down there. Nevertheless, our foremost duty is to seek out and exterminate this xenomorph. All other concerns are secondary, but we will keep them under advisement."

Marcus folded his arms, "We're xenomorph specialists, not army troopers. If we find anything suggesting illegal arms or drugs or contraband trade, we'll note and report it. But they're not within the scope of our engagement."

"But if you saw something else down there, you'd have to deal with it, right?" he asked, nervously, chewing roughly on his mint.

Marcus replied coldly, "We will do whatever the situation necessitates, but only within the scope of our engagement."

Victor leaned back in his chair, seemingly exasperated. "Alright, well, let's get this over with."


	17. Toe in the water

Aliens: Hell is Underground II

**Aliens: Hell is Underground II**

**Chapter 3: Toe in the Water**

Marcus waited patiently as the elevator brought them down into the lower levels of the station. The walls around him were a porous concrete that seemed to absorb the dust and sweat of all that passed through their corridors, darkening the beige paint that covered them to a pale grey.

It was a stark contrast to the office suites and plush meeting rooms back upstairs. This was where the guts of the station pumped, made to work by ever aging machinery and bottom rung school drop outs of all ages did all the things that kept it all chugging along.

Driving the trains, overseeing the switches and tunnel routes, watching the timetables and guiding the trains through the maze. But at possibly the lowest wrung of all was the rotund man standing in front of them who worked with the dead man Gregory in the maintenance division.

These were the guys that got their hands dirty. These were the ones subject to the worst conditions. Ironically, their job required a brain and a degree. It is one thing to know how to operate machinery. _Just push a button_, Marcus mused. It is entirely something to know how it works and be able to fix it when it broke. It takes some sand to be able to reach into the bowels of some steel and concrete monstrosity and do what needs to be done without having your hand crushed or being electrocuted.

_Why do they do it?_ Marcus wondered as the elevator doors opened to reveal a lonely short corridor lit by buzzing overhead lights. The portly man stepped into the silent way with reassuring familiarity as Marcus and Mary followed in behind.

Marcus studied the man's slumped shoulders and lazy steps. He seemed to take two steps for each of Marcus' one, shuffling along with a depressing sense of either detachment or resentment. Marcus couldn't quite tell which. _Probably both,_ he decided.

"Gregory nice boy." He volunteered, speaking with a thick accent Marcus recognised as Russian. Just like the dead boy. "Not fair he die. You bring back what is left of him. I make sure he go bury properly."

Neither of them replied, preferring to focus on the task at hand as they quickly reached the end of the way despite the oafish Russian's slow gait. His eyes did not leave the floor as one hand quickly fetched his pass card and swiped it through a reader with robotic precision.

"You be ready. We here." He announced casually.

Although their weapons were ready, both of them lifted them higher and tighter to their chest. Marcus' thoughts of the man in front of him were quickly dispelled as he brought his mind back to the task at hand. His training dictated never to let his guard down. If this fat man said they were 'here', then the threat could be here too.

The door before them opened slowly. It disappear into the right wall silently. Marcus could tell it was supposed to be painted white, but was stained grey. The door's state of cleanliness was a prelude to the small space that opened before them. A small room whose only feature was a small and filthy hatch in the floor.

The Russian did not move. "Just open hatch, go in. You there."

"You aren't going to open it for us?" Mary asked incredulously.

"No." the man said simply as though that was the end of the matter.

Marcus expected his partner to argue with the downcast and fearful man, but she simply stepped forward and knelt beside the hatch. Marcus sighed, again feeling despair for his partner, his lover and how she had been changed. She had lost some of her soul, he supposed. Although she was the same person, in some ways she was not.

"Alright, let's go." Mary spoke and looked up at him.

Marcus berated himself privately and knelt down beside her, ignoring the Russian as he turned and disappeared behind the closing door back towards the elevator. He couldn't blame him.

"Ready?" Mary asked, gripping her hands around a lever.

"Yup."

With a sharp tug, Mary pulled the lever back and the hatch unlocked. Marcus looked down the sights of his pulse rifle as the way opened to reveal a dark void. However, the view was quickly replaced by the cutting green glow of his night vision detecting the dark and switching on. Now he could see the ladder rungs that descended down into the abyss. He could not see where they led too. The surroundings were too murky.

Without a word, Marcus stepped onto the ladder and started to descend, followed closely by Mary.

Having descended beneath the flooring, he arced his body out from the ladder's rungs, clutched tightly in his hands, and swept his eyes over his surrounds. Despite his intentions, he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of the vacant space around him.

The black void started to recede as his night vision adjusted and the train tunnels and cables and other features became apparent.

Great tubes of concrete snaked through above him like intestines. Interweaved amongst it all were cables of all sorts of sizes like veins. He had no doubt that he felt like he was in the arse end of the world. All of the descriptions and images he could think of were of the digestive system.

He felt like a microscopic piece of shit that was no where it was supposed to be.

Quickly, however his mind came back to the task at hand. Looking down between his legs he saw the ladder spill down into the dark, but he could make out a platform of some sort and a junction next to it. He felt better to see the ladder led to somewhere after all.

Looking back up again, he could see Mary still marvelling at the scene, but she seemed to feel his eyes on her and she met his gaze.

With a curt nod, she unslung her sniper rifle and weaved her legs between the rungs of the ladder. Locking them around the grimy steel, she looked down her rifle's sights, scanning all directions through her scope.

"Clear."

Without waiting, Marcus descended swiftly, eager to get his feet on something solid so he could get his own gun in his hands. Knowing that a xenomorph was around here somewhere, he wanted to have his gun up at all times.

Halfway down, he heard a distant rumbling and gripped the ladder tightly. They had both been briefed it meant a train was coming and it always a painful and disorienting experience when so close. Quickly, the noise grew and filled the cavern like an explosion. A thundering roar assaulted his ears, but thankfully his mask's ear pieces dulled the noise, almost muting it completely.

Mercifully, the cacophony stopped abruptly and he continued down trusting his partner to cover him from above in the darkness.

Finally, his feet came down on the solid steel floor and he whipped his rifle over his shoulder and cradled it before him. He was standing on a railed gangway and a hatch-like door waited in front of him.

He was intensely uncomfortable in the open like this. He cursed that his motion tracker would not work here for he was surrounded with hiding places from which a xenomorph could leap out and tackle him in an instant. Pipes and platforms twisted all around him, seemingly emerging out of thin air in the darkness.

Looking over the side of the railing, he could see the empty space trickle down further still between even more pipes and cables. He couldn't see the bottom. Despite his fear and the state of disrepair and filth around him, he couldn't help but marvel for a moment at the scale of the engineering. It was quite a sight and a credit to the people or machines that built it.

"You OK?" Mary voice crackled in his ear piece.

"Yeah. Clear. Door in front, proceeding."

"Roger that. Good luck, baby."

Marcus looked up and could see his partner hovering above him. Despite the reassuring voice loud and clear as though she was standing right next to him, she seemed so far away up there.

Nevertheless, he knew she could see him. He raised his hand in a wave and walked forward to open the door.

Mary sighed quietly as she watched him disappear from view, gulped up by the maze.

"Clear. Going down." His voice massaged her frayed nerves. It was cool and confident. She wanted him to keep talking. She couldn't see him anymore, but as long as she could hear his voice, it meant he was alive.

Xxxxxxx

The trip downward in the cramped tunnels was hard work, due to the effort required to climb over various obstacles and the mental fatigue of the constant state of heightened alertness. Marcus cursed the need to revert to old fashioned hunting, but was at least thankful he had both night vision and a sensitive sense of hearing, amplified by the ear receptacles of his mask.

He was following the route the workman had supposedly followed and he was nearing the place were he was thought to have died.

In places, he was forced to crawl or squeeze through tight spots and he did his best to keep his gun free, but there was no doubt that he was intensely vulnerable. However, despite the nakedness of his situation, he had great faith in the sensitivity and accuracy of his hearing.

Stepping lightly, he could hear every creak and hiss of steam. He could hear water and sewerage rushing through the pipes around him and he could still hear the rumble of the trains rushing by overhead through several layers of concrete and steel and lots of distance.

Wherever he looked, he saw twisted snakes of metal bathed in a thick grease. It was difficult to see such detail through the green glow of his night vision, but the fact that he could see it all the same was testament to how filthy it was. It was everywhere.

He wondered how in god's name anyone would ever choose to stay down here. Why on earth would a homeless man choose this place? He had come across traces of activity besides maintenance workers having been down here. Within a small alcove was a pile of various items of rubbish and empty bottles. Sifting through the mess, he was amazed to find a used condom.

Creeping further into the bowels of the dirty maze, he found the punctured piping that Gregory had been sent down to find. Turning to his right, he saw the cramped crawlspace that would take him to where the young man had died.

"Mary." He whispered into his mic.

"Yeah?" she replied eagerly. Marcus could hear the relief in her voice, tinged with the anxiety that he might also have something bad to report.

"Found the first puncture. Proceeding to encounter point."

"Be careful."

_As if she needs to tell me._ He chided privately.

Looking over the bulkhead in front of him, instead of taking the same route of the young man, he decided to scale over it once he saw the tangle of pipes that would provide sufficient purchase.

If he had been creeping along silently and carefully before, he seemed to take even more care as he climbed the wall, listening for movement.

He heard none.

Hand over hand he quickly got back on his feet atop the pipes and crept along, gun up and ready. Down the way he could see where the bulkhead stopped and where the encounter point would be. He prepared himself for a grisly sight as he angled his head up and stole a glance over the edge.

No body. Lots of blood. No xenomorph.

He doubted that the body or the creature would be here waiting for him. They were a cunning breed and knew the benefit of never staying in an open place for too long.

Peering through the green gloom, he could see amongst the mess of blood and gore, the young workman's torch sitting idly on the ground. It was not broken, having flattened the battery. The man's helmet also lay amongst the blood pool, upside down.

A corridor panned down the way further into the gloom and Marcus sighed, both out of exasperation and tiredness as a blood trail wove its way along and veered around a corner to the right.

"Mary, no body here. Looks like he was dragged away. Will follow."

"Roger."

Her voice was just as comforting to him as his was to her. It was a reminder that he wasn't quite alone down here.

Clearing his throat, he continued on, sidestepping around the grisly scene below him and hopping down towards the corridor's opening. _Every step from here on in gets me closer…_ he thought as he adjusted his grip on his rifle. He realised only now that his fingers ached.

Previously, although his surroundings had been cramped, the area had been open excepted for various pipes that snaked across his way. However, he was now creeping through enclosed concrete corridors, bare of any features except for the congealed blood that clung to the edges.

He felt a greater sense of nervousness creeping through him. This environment would not be good for his sense of hearing. Sound would not carry as well here. However, he decided it was better after all, given there were now less ways for a prospective xenomorph to sneak up on him.

Xenomorph combat theory always gave weight to the benefit of fighting on corridor like environs given that it would funnel the enemy, making them easier to shoot down, their movement easier to predict to either defend or attack. The less obscured openings, such as shafts and doorways, the better. Xenomorphs loved the element of surprise and attacking from the shadows.

Marcus had to remind himself that he was in total darkness, again noting to thank to whoever invented night vision goggles.

The blood trail before him continued to snake through the maze. The navigator on the HUD in his mask noted the way he came, highlighting a crude map and a yellow line for the way he came. He didn't particularly need it however. He had carefully, yet absently noted his route as a product of his training.

The trail was beginning to fade and twisted around another corner. However, something caused Marcus to stop.

The scene before him showed a green glow from that direction.

A light source.

"Possible contact, over." He whispered into his mic,

"Roger."

"Standby."

He tried not to think about how Mary must be feeling right now, sitting alone knowing that something might very well happen, but she had no idea what and could do nothing about it. Instead he focused all of his attention on the scene before him, hunching down and hugging the walls and he crept up silently towards the corner.

He stopped and gathered his nerves before taking a quick peek, only enough to see for a split second before withdrawing back, but he hesitated at the sight before him.

The corridor abruptly stopped at a dead end, a brick wall. Nailed to it was a body, crucified and naked and covered in blood. In front of it were a series of candles arranged in a semicircle around it that flickered innocently.

A cold heavy feeling gnawed at his stomach. The sick feeling that something was very wrong.

Eyeing left and right nervously, he stepped around the corner, keeping to the wall and crept down towards the splayed corpse. He inched closer and closer until he was near enough to reach out and touch the poor soul.

It was a young man, hanging by his hands that were nailed to the brick wall and bound with rope. A large gash leaped across his chest and snaked down his stomach, revealing faint glimpses of his rib cage and intestines.

It made no sense that he was here like this. If he had been attacked by a xenomorph, he should have been torn to shreds. He should be in several pieces. And it was unheard of for a xenomorphs to do something like this.

_Crucifiction is a human thing._ Marcus decided. _Xenomorphs don't do this. Someone else is down here._

Marcus reached up to turn the body's head to check if it was the young man who had been attacked. Yet as soon as his fingers grazed against the man's jaw line, the man jerked alive and stared straight down to him, his eyes wide with a crazed fear.

"Don't…… please….. hurts….." he choked in between gurgling breaths. He writhed against his bonds and wailed, his face open and screaming in a fit of pain and despair.

Marcus stepped back, utterly shocked and tried to reassure the poor boy. It was indeed Gregory, but he was a stark sight compared to the peaceful boredom of his identify photo.

"Stay.. away….." he gasped as tears streamed down his face.

"It… it's alright." Marcus managed to blurt out, his reason starting to return and he quickly shot a look over his shoulder, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. "I'm here to rescue you."

The mention of rescue sent the young man into another writhing flurry, but instead of recoiling, he tried to lean towards Marcus, desperate for salvation.

"Pain…. Stop…. Help me." He gasped.

"What happened?" Marcus said coldly, regaining his composure. Judging by Gregory's wounds, he might not live long. He had to get something out of him before he fell into shock and died. Marcus quickly reached into a pouch on his leg and retrieved a syringe. He swiftly stabbed it into Gregory's chest, sending a soothing rush of adrenaline and painkillers coursing through his heart.

The effect was instant and Gregory immediately calmed down and his eyes seemed to focus. After blinking twice, he looked Marcus straight in the eyes and spoke clearly.

"Don't let me die. I don't wanna die."


	18. Something ate the breadcrumbs

Aliens: Hell is Underground II

**Aliens: Hell is Underground II**

**Chapter 4: Something ate the breadcrumbs**

"Don't let me die. I don't wanna die." Gregory said, cold and focussed. No longer caught in a fit of pain and terror, he spoke with a dreadful calm.

Marcus tried to steady himself and eyed the boy's torn body. He had to get the boy topside as quickly as possible before he died of blood loss or shock. As it was, he was amazed the poor wretch had survived this long. Marcus reached into a leg pocket a produced a tube of gel sealant. Glancing over his shoulder now and then, and keeping his ears pricked for the slightest sound that didn't belong, he smeared the clear gel over the boys wounds as he continued to rant.

"That thing. Scariest fucking thing I've ever seen." Gregory winced as the cold gel met his raw and ragged flesh, but the local anaesthetic quickly kicked in and he relaxed his arching spine and gritted teeth. "What's going on? Where am I?"

"Keep your voice down. I don't particularly know where we are and how you got here. That monster didn't bring you here I don't think. Someone else is down here." He carefully smeared the last of the gel into the torn cavity, sealing it up temporarily. Marcus stood up, glad to be off his knees. "I have to get you out of here."

"If we're still in the maintenance tunnels, you won't be able to get me through the dust. I'll suffocate." Marcus almost stepped back as the boy spoke clearly and logically even upon the subject of his own survival. He wondered whether he was high in some way. Had his captors given him sort of ritualistic drug?

Nevertheless, he was right. The boy needed a face mask.

"Mary?"

There was no reply. He tried again, but was only met by a dull static. The signal up to her was no doubt rendered somewhat impotent by the mass of interfering concrete and steel, but it still should work. If it didn't, his mask HUD would have said so, but it didn't. He grunted angrily. It could only mean someone was blocking the signal.

They could only do that if they knew he was here.

He didn't have much time. There was no way he would be able to get Gregory out of this mess, but he had to extract his story out of him. He might know something useful.

"What can you remember after that creature took you?"

"Uh….. not really anything. I woke up tied to this shit and screamed my ass off."

"Did you see anyone?"

"No."

"How long were you here?"

"Um.. don't know."

"OK. How tall were these candles when you first woke up?"

"Umm, maybe twice as high?"

The candles were thin and thus burned quickly. Even in the short time Marcus had been here, he noticed they had melted a little more. He had only been here two or three minutes.

"You've been here for about an hour. But it's been 14 hours since we were contacted. What happened to you in the time between?"

As if to answer, Gregory's eyes went wide and his body shook in a series of growing convulsions. He tried to scream, but his voice gurgled amidst white foam. Marcus' training threw him away as he realised immediately what was happening.

He had been cocooned and a small xenomorph was about to burst forth. He had never seen someone undergo the horrific process before and despite a little voice that pleaded to kill him quickly and mercifully, he instead stood and watch in callous fascination.

Gregory's eyes pleaded for help, even as the gel sealant started to give way and blood dribbled down the poor boy's thrashing body. He wanted to simply be out of here, back home and safe, but the ropes and nails held him fast to the cross as the monster inside him cracked the first of his ribs.

A terrified guttural scream escaped his lips as the creature broke through in a shower of blood and flesh. Although his body continued to thrash and pull and his scream echoed through the corridors, he had died already.

The angry little creature stared at Marcus without eyes and screeched at him, covered in dark red ooze. Finally, Marcus snapped to attention and did what he had been so thoroughly trained for. Pulling the trigger of his pulse rifle, he sent a shower of death into the pitiful mess of flesh before him, cutting Gregory's dead body in half and blowing the creature away in a splash of acid. Already it ate through Gregory's limp torso and dripped onto the ground with a sizzle.

It was a disgusting sight and thankfully he was not gripped by the same morbid fascination as before. He found himself already turned around and walking back the way he came without consciously wishing it so. Feeling the reassuring weight of his rifle settled under his armpit, calmed his frayed nerves somewhat and he resolved to quickly get back topside with the news and his own life still intact.

Skulking quickly, yet silently back through the claustrophobic corridors he couldn't help but feel something else was wrong. One might wonder what else could possibly go wrong, but it soon dawned on him.

The trail of blood from Gregory's now dead form that previously bled a trail to him was now gone. Wiped clean.

All fear was gone in an instant as his combat instincts revisited him in full, like a dimmed light switch suddenly turned on in a blaze of golden brightness.

Someone was down here with him and nearby. They knew he was here.

Thankfully, Marcus didn't need the bloody breadcrumb trail and followed the crude map on his mask's HUD, quickly finding his way back out into the cavernous bowels of the underground amongst the pipes and the channels. He was back on guard and darting his eyes everywhere looking for possible movement amongst the pipes and machines that all looked like a twisted xenomorph at a cursory glance.

He tried the commlink again, "Mary?"

"Marcus! What's the update? What's going on?" Her voice was garbled amongst the static. Whatever was blocking his signal before was still at it, but left enough of an opening for a trace signal through.

"Mary, ther-" a sliver of movement through a thin could of steam caught his eye and a tickle on the back of his neck from his instincts confirmed it was a xenomorph stalking him. It saw him looking at it and immediately abandoned the silent hunt and screamed across and over a tangle of steel pipes towards him.

Marcus met the attack, sidestepping towards the general route of escape and fired at the slithering enemy. Pipes and steel blew open and spewed forth their contents into a cloud as the alien atop them caught the full force of the barrage and was knocked back into the shadows. Marcus didn't need to confirm the kill. He had pumped over six rounds into the creature and there was no way for it to survive that.

He thumped into a bulkhead and held still, listening carefully for any more of the creatures and scanning the open way with a frantic eye. His heart was surging, but he concentrated on his breathing and willed himself over and over not to lose his focus. Whatever happened he couldn't afford to panic, especially if more xenomorphs were hunting him. No doubt if they weren't doing that already, the loud burst of gunfire would attract their attention and they soon would.

"Marcus! Status!" Mary's voiced barked over the commlink.

He stuttered a moment after forgetting she was still on the other side of the radio, "Contact. One xeno down."

"Any others?"

"Unknown."

"Jesus Christ Marcus, you gotta get back here. What happened to that Gregory kid?"

"He's dead. He was nailed to a cross and a face hugger had already got him. He split open in front of me and I had to blow them away."

"Nailed to a cross?"

"Yeah. This is fucked. Someone else is down here. Xeno's don't do that. Tell the station master that I think there's more of these things down here. I'm on my way back up to you."

"Roger. I'll wait for you. Be safe."

He was both thankful to hear her voice and thankful she had signed off. Her voice was comforting, but it also stunted his senses and diverted his attention. Down in the arse of the world with monsters after him, he needed all of his wits about him. Carefully, he climbed over the bulkhead and passed the place where Gregory had been snatched. Surprisingly, like the blood trail in the concrete corridors, the blood pool and the helmet and flat torch were missing. Cleaned up like they were never there. It was an intensely unsettling feeling.

He turned around to focus on the way ahead and gasped to see a sliver of spidery legs and a tail scamper upside down on a pipe ahead of him in the gloom. His night vision had restored and helped highlight the little critter as it snaked around and disappeared into a crevice.

"Shit!" Marcus swore. It was a nightmare. The worst situation to find yourself in was precisely this. In a space surrounded by hidey holes and shadows in the dark with a face hugger after you that was smart enough to stalk and not blindly charge. Without his motion tracker, he had no idea where the little bastard had disappeared to and would be able to strike from anywhere. He cursed himself for not bringing a flamethrower. If he had one he could flush it out and fry it. But he had only his rifle and the prospect of wielding the heavy weapon faster than the little creature could strike was highly doubtful. He much preferred the normal full grown xenomorph variety as they were bigger and easier to handle with a gun. But those little crabs always managed to freak him out no matter how much training he endured. He had a natural fear of spiders to begin with as it was. Understandably, he viewed facehuggers as even worse.

The notion of it wrapping itself around his face and shoving that gooey tentacle down his throat was unsettling enough, but waking up nailed to a cross to wait for the embryo it left behind to burst was enough to propel his forward towards the exit with abandon.

Eyes darted every which way as he scrambled away. A scrape of metal on metal turned him around and revealed another xenomorph bounding after him in a blood hungry run on all fours towards him. Even in the green gloom, he could see it grinning at him evilly and he quickly raised the rifle and fired. The bullets thumped home and smacked the alien backwards into a crumpled, yet intact heap.

His eyes fixed on the scene before him, scanning heavily for any others but that damned little face hugger from before was still nowhere to be seen.

A hiss of steam from his left caused him to flinch and inadvertently saved his life as his spare left arm raised to keep the mist at bay and caught the face hugger instead in a desperate lunge. Even through the protective material of his gloves, he could feel the gelatine goo of the creature as it slithered and writhed in his grip. Its little knuckled legs pressed hard into the back of his hand as it struggled for purchase and it tail wrapped around his arm and up to his shoulder.

"Jesus Christ!" Marcus screamed at the top of his lungs, but did not have the presence of mind to hear Mary's desperate cry in his ear. It was all he could do to hold the crab in his palm and keep the deadly tail from wrapping around his throat, even if his neck piece offered a guard against it. Through the panic, he was at once thankful the alien did not have a set of teeth to bite his hand off, rather a useless stump that tried to snake around his palm, but was caught fast. His forearm corded as he crushed his fingers around it, but it took all of his strength.

_Goddamn the little fuck's strong._

Quickly he regained the presence of mind to turn his attention back to the secondary dangers around him and cast his eyes over the open way with the rifle still clasp in his right hand. He saw just in time the clawed black fingers of another xenomorph clamour over the edge of the bulkhead in front of him and the ridges of its elongated head peer over. It stared at him with a stunned resignation, aware that its plan to sneak up on him while its little brother kept Marcus at bay had failed and now stared down the barrel of a weapon specifically designed to destroy it.

Marcus did just that with a determined press of the trigger as the creature long face imploded and it fell away.

"Marcus!"

He heard her voice now, clear as day and turned to see movement down a cramped tunnel. He almost shot at the shadowy presence until he saw a wave of a friendly hand and heard her voice again.

"Get this shit offa me!" he screamed and held up the still struggling face hugger like a child showing off a crusty painting to a teacher. For a brief moment, he was proud to how off his predicament, hoping it would impress her and inspire sympathy sex when the mission was over, but a slap on his face by the devilish creature brought him out of the stupor and caught Mary's attention.

Coolly, she drew a knife and jimmied in between his hand and the writhing creature and stabbed into it. The face hugger quickly withdrew and squealed as a tiny squirt of acid blood popped into the air between them. Marcus was glad for his hand to be free and immediately drew a bead on the alien, now free and trying to escape and blew it apart in a mist of burning flesh and blood.

"Oh Jesus!" Mary's voice was a gasp and Marcus followed her stare. She was gawking at the way behind them as a swarm of xenomorphs scrambled over pipes and ledges after them. There were too many to count. They were a mix of black and bony arms and legs that seemed to move in unison, like a dark sheet spewing forward to engulf them.

"Oh shit…." Marcus mumbled and turned to see Mary already scrambling away towards the exit.

"What the fuck are you waiting for?" she screamed.

There was no way they could hope to escape this. There were too many of them. It seemed like a swarm of hundreds in the tight space and they would very soon catch up to them and tear them both apart.

He shouldered his weapon and fired down on the encroaching horde, gritting his teeth and suddenly feeling very much alive amongst a tide of death.


End file.
